


Just an Ordinary Love Story

by rosewarren



Series: Just an Ordinary Boy [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 97,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewarren/pseuds/rosewarren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disappearing aliens, mysterious messages, and an oddly-acting Doctor.  A not-so-ordinary week for Rose and 10.5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written at the start of 2009.
> 
> The chapter titles are all song lyrics. It's been six (!) years since I wrote this, so I'm not even sure where some of them are from. I had a lot of help from live journal users to find the right ones for these two.

When I was nineteen years old I met a man called the Doctor. He grabbed my hand and told me to run and I did. We never stopped running. He took me away from home in his magical machine and showed me the whole of time and space. I thought it would last forever. 

I was wrong.

The army of ghosts came, and Torchwood and the war. We were separated by a wall that could never be breached, him on one side and I on the other in an entirely different universe. I’d tried to save the universe and in the process I’d lost him.

He’d said I could never see him again, speaking as a hologram on a deserted beach in Norway. I don’t know that I ever believed him. I’d told him forever and I’d meant it. I loved him, and even if he couldn’t say it back, I knew that he loved me, too.

So I never gave up. 

I went back and found my Doctor. I’m not saying it was easy, because it was anything but. I saw things I should never have seen, did things I shouldn’t have been able to do, things that burn within me still. But I kept going, because I knew he was out there, somewhere.

I found my Doctor in the midst of a darkness that was unlike anything either of our universes had ever seen. Death and destruction like I wouldn’t have believed possible. 

But I found him. I was not leaving him again. We were going to save the universe again and be together. We’d travel and have adventures and everything would be as it was before.

Things never happen the way you think they will. To save his life the Doctor changed into two men, identical but for the fact that one was human. One heart, one lifetime. Entirely unlike the Doctor.

And then the Doctor did what I never thought he would do. He left me behind again, left his human counterpart. Trapped us together on a world where neither one of us belonged, where neither one of us wanted to be.

Some women would be angry. Some would be devastated. Some would give up.

I did all those things. And then I realized I’d been given a gift.

Maybe you think I should have tried harder to keep him, to stay with him, to go back to his universe and find him again.

Maybe you wouldn’t think I could be happy, under the circumstances.

You’d be wrong.


	2. Just know that these things will never change for us at all

“‘Today is the first day of the rest of your life’,” the Doctor reads out loud. “‘Try new things. Meet new people. Read new books. Anticipate each moment as a potential for new and exciting experiences.’”

“Horoscopes are rubbish. I wish you’d stop.”

“My horoscope has been accurate 12% of the time this year,” he informs her loftily.

“I’m amazed it’s even that close,” Rose retorts. “You don’t even know your proper birthdate.”

“Of course I do. It’s July 5.” He winks at her from over the top of the newspaper. “You were there, remember?”

Rose bites back a rude comment. This fascination with horoscopes is fairly new. She worries it may be an outgrowth of the Donna in him. These things have come out gradually in the past few months. Horoscopes, a new enthusiasm for shopping, a fondness for stuffed animals that Rose is trying very hard to discourage.

Perhaps the fondness for sweets and obsession with hair care are also from Donna, but he’d had those traits long before that biological meta-crisis. They’re just a bit more pronounced now.

“I’m not sure that counts as your birthday,” she says instead, and takes a bite of her toast.

“It’s my birthday of record. Close enough.” He takes a huge bite of his own toast.

Rose looks at him fondly. The Doctor is sitting here at her kitchen table, sharing a breakfast of toast and coffee. His hair is tousled six ways to Sunday, and there is a smear of marmalade on his red t-shirt. Soon they’ll get dressed and leave for work. They’ll ride the tube or drive, depending on their mood. They’ll hunt down aliens or do paperwork, have dinner, go home and watch tv or hang out with friends.

It’s not a new routine, but it’s one that still remains precious to her. She has the Doctor - _her_ Doctor - and he loves her. He is human and he is hers and he loves her.

“Here, I’ll read yours,” the Doctor is saying, but is cut off by a beeping alarm. “Time for a feeding,” he says instead.

Rose grabs the canister and follows him to the spare room. It still holds the guest bed and all of his clothing in the wardrobe, but now there is a cot in the middle of the room.

The Doctor throws open the curtains. Sunshine floods the room. Rose edges to the cot and peers inside.

“She’s getting big,” the Doctor observes. “We’ll have to move her soon.”

Rose pries open the canister. “How can you tell?”

He points into the cot. “She’s grown a good four inches since we set her inside here.”

Rose looks skeptical.

“Honestly, Rose, if you looked at my growth charts you could track this for yourself.”

Ah, the growth charts. There is a reason Rose hasn’t looked at them. They’re lengthy, over-analytical, and filled with drawn-out scientific equations. Also, he’s written half of the data in Gallifreyan.

She hands him the container without comment.

He clucks his tongue and carefully pours the contents into a small tube. Standing together, heads touching, they bend over the cot.

The small piece of coral sits there in the middle of Tony’s old cot, surrounded by baby blankets. Carefully placed pieces of foil reflect light back onto its body to encourage healthy growth. It’s growing slowly but steadily, but looks nothing like a real TARDIS, at least as far as Rose can tell. 

The coral is organic matter, and the Doctor has been nurturing it for the past six months with a protein-based liquid that looks like plant food.

“We’ll have to move her,” he says. “Ideally, somewhere with a lot more room. Once I set her in place we won’t want to move her again. Then I can accelerate the growth process.”

Rose doesn’t ask how he knows this. Time Lords just do. With the information that Donna gave him, back on Bad Wolf Bay, this TARDIS shouldn’t take nearly as long to grow as they traditionally did.

He hopes.

“Will we need more room than what we have in the flat?” Rose asks him.

“I think so, yeah.”

“How much longer, do you think?”

He’s consulting his growth charts. “A few weeks, maybe two or three months.”

Rose sighs. “At least we have some time to think about it.”

“It’s not s much the growing, although you know it’ll get bigger.”

Rose nods. “What is it, then?”

“There’s a lot of work that goes into building a TARDIS, building the hardware and bits around the part that’s alive and growing,” he explains. “It’s not something that should be done inside a flat.”

Rose reads between the lines. “You mean there’ll be noise and sparks and explosions.”

He laughs. “No. Not exactly.” He pauses and looks off into nothing, and she suspects she’s more correct than he’s letting on. “Well, maybe some sparks,” he allows. 

Rose glances around the room, trying to imagine it singed and sparking.

 

“It’s not that I don’t like the flat,” he says on the way to work.

Rose looks up in surprise. “Were we talking about the flat?”

They took the tube in that morning, Rose reading through the morning newspaper, looking for suspicious, possible alien activity, while he played with his mobile phone. They’d gotten off a stop early to walk the rest of the way, because the morning turned out sunny and warm.

“We need more room,” he says, as they walk along, hand in hand. “I’m very happy there, but the TARDIS will keep growing.”

Rose nods. “What do you suggest we do?”

“We need a building,” he says promptly. “Someplace quiet we can place it and leave it alone.”

“An entire building? Are we talking Torchwood size?”

“Not that big, Rose. Like a storage shed, maybe. Something in a garden.”

“My parents have that guest house.”

“Yes, but sometimes they have guests who stay in it.”

Rose waits. He’s working up to something, and eventually he’ll come out and say what he’s thinking.

He looks at her, serious and intent. “I thought a house with a garden would be perfect. We could build something in the back for it.”

Rose isn’t sure how to react. “You want to buy a house so the TARDIS has a place to live?”

“I was planning a house anyway, you know,” he tells her. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to ask.”

“To buy a house?”

“To ask you if you want a house. It’s a big commitment, as I understand it, among humans, anyway.”

He understands a lot less about humans than he thinks he does, but Rose lets this one pass.

“It’s a commitment,” she agrees, “but you and I have that already.” She pauses for a beat. “Right?”

“Of course,” he says, so readily that she can tell it’s an absolute fact for him. “So would you like to? Buy a house?”

“We could buy a house. It’d be nice to have some more room.”

He smiles at her. Rose has the feeling there’s more going on than just buying a house, but he’s not letting her in on it just yet. She looks at him closely, studying his face. He is all open innocence and loving affection.

Maybe she’s imagining it.

She smiles back at him. If she’s not imagining it, she’ll figure it out soon enough. The man is nearly incapable of keeping a secret.

He may be simply smiling, he may be hiding his true plans behind that smile. Rose has experienced both things. She rests her head against his shoulder for a moment. He wraps his arm around her and hugs her close for a moment. He releases her as they reach the Torchwood Tower.

Rose has worked there for a long time, but sometimes a chill will come over her when she’s unprepared. Memories of a long-ago, faraway Torchwood at Canary Wharf will swamp her, and in her mind’s eye she will see silver robots and Daleks.

He squeezes her hand in assurance and she looks at him gratefully.

“Other time, other place,” he reminds her.

“I know.” And she does. This is a brand new world, and it is theirs.


	3. If I could fall into the sky do you think time would pass me by?

Things at Torchwood have changed a bit. Pete Tyler is still in charge, but he’s also been working over at Vitex more and more lately. He’s handling the combination very well, but Rose wonders how long before he is forced to choose between the two. Vitex is his creation, but he takes Torchwood very seriously. Having been threatened by the Cybermen, Pete is not going to let anything else come through to this world on his watch. 

Having watched that happen, Rose will do whatever she has to keep it from happening again. That means not only hunting down aliens and using their technology to help the Earth, but dealing with the politics within Torchwood as well. The Doctor handles that part better - he doesn’t care what people think. Rose doesn’t have that luxury.

The Doctor pauses as they near the building.

“What is it?” Rose asks.

He shrugs. “I was just thinking that I like this.”

“Like what?” she asks, puzzled.

“I like being human. Well, except for the one heart. I still can’t get used to that. But I like living with you and going to a job every day and being normal.”

Rose squints her eyes. “I’m not sure that you’d be considered normal,” she tells him. “I mean, you’re only half-human, and we chase down aliens for a living. And we came from a parallel universe. So...not a lot of normal going on there.”

“Rose Tyler, you are missing my point.” As people move past them he steps closer to her so that strangers won’t overhear him. “I am having fun.”

“Me too.”

They walk to Torchwood Tower and he opens the lobby door for her. “I mean, this is fun. This particular job. It’s challenging, it’s fun-”

“You get to make everyone else look like idiots at least once a week.”

“It’s so easy to do. You humans just don’t know anything about aliens.”

Flashing their passes at the security desk, they part ways at the elevator banks. Rose is going in to see her father. The Doctor is planning to work in his lab. Since they’re on call, he’s dressed in trousers and a plain shirt. Rose is wearing dark trousers and a pink blouse under a dark jacket. Ready for the office or chasing down aliens. 

Someone in human resources had the bright idea to institute a dress code. Employees not on active field duty must wear professional dress when in the building. This hasn’t caused massive discontent so far, but it’s only a matter of time before scientists used to wearing jeans in their own labs start to rebel. 

Rose wears a suit on days she has meetings or debriefings and considers it an even trade. The Doctor, who likes shopping but never really notices what he’s wearing, agreed to wear a tie and proper trousers when required. Once in a while Rose will suggest a nice suit. He always vetoes it, maintaining that he’s done with suits. She doesn’t always know whether to be glad or sorry for that. He is his own person, and she knows that and loves him for it. She just wishes she understood her need to see him wearing a brown pinstriped suit, when he so clearly is not the same man who used to wear one.

“Come find me when you’re done?” he asks her.

She smiles up at him. “Of course. See you later.” She walks into a lift. The Doctor watches until the doors close and then runs up the stairs to his lab. He’s very concerned about health and exercise now that he’s human and limited to one life.

The lab is empty, as he expected to find it. Turning on the lights, he pulls out his latest project. Nothing Torchwood-sanctioned, but he considers growing a TARDIS more important than anything else he could be doing.

His other current project, building a properly-functioning sonic screwdriver, is nearly as important, but he hasn’t had much success with that yet.

As he studies the diagrams he’s painstakingly drawn out over the past few weeks, he tries to picture a fully-grown TARDIS. He’s been without his for a while now, trapped on this world in a human body. He’s gotten used to the loss, but the prospect of a new one fills him with excitement. 

A knock on his door breaks his concentration. He has to blink a few times to focus on the figure in the doorway.

“Hi,” Anna says cheerfully.

“Good morning.” He slides the papers away and out of sight. He and Rose have not told anyone what they’re planning, in case it doesn’t work.

Also, he is afraid to tell Jackie that he is growing another time machine. She will rightly see it as an attempt to take her daughter away, and he does not want to face her under those circumstances. No sane man would.

“I’m doing an analysis of some material found at an accident site,” Anna tells him. “There are a few organic elements I can’t place. Are you busy?”

“No, I can help.”

Across the hall in Anna’s small lab, the Doctor examines a chunk of hard rock. “This is what was found?”

“A part of it. Most of it is still under observation. They let me have this bit when it passed quarantine.”

He looks up at her. “Quarantine?”

“I know! How can we tell what it is, let alone if it needs to be quarantined?” Anna likes her job, but not the paperwork and red tape she has to maneuver through in order to do it. “It wasn’t giving off nuclear readings, so it’s probably safe enough.”

The Doctor nods solemnly. “Probably.” Normally he would add something about how clueless human beings were, but it would be wasted on Anna. She doesn’t entirely believe that he’s not entirely human. 

Anna waits patiently while he looks at the rock. She reaches out and stops him as he lifts the rock to his mouth.

“Rose said I was not to let you taste anything unfamiliar,” she says firmly. “Especially if it gives off radiation.”

He rolls his eyes. “Really, Anna.” But he sets the rock down. “No idea,” he says briskly. “I haven’t seen it before, and I’ve traveled a bit.”

“I know, I know. You’re nearly a thousand years old and you’ve been to the end of the world and back.” Anna tries not to yawn.

“It doesn’t look like anything from Earth,” the Doctor continues, ignoring this blatant disregard for his long and illustrious career. “Where did they find it?”

Anna packs the rock away in a special box designed to hold in any radiation or other lethal emissions. “There was a crash a few miles outside Bristol. This was found at the bottom of a crater. It looked a bit suspicious. We’re still not sure if it’s organic or manmade.”

“Who investigated it?”

“Jake, Simon and Riley.”

“Where is their report?”

Anna slaps it into his hand. “Let me know what you find out.”

He’s halfway back to his lab before it dawns on him. He’s heading back when Rose comes down the hallway.

“There you are.” She grabs his arm and squeezes it.

“Hi,” he tells her.

“Where are you heading?”

“I think Anna just talked me into doing her work for her,” he says indignantly.

“If it’s something she can’t figure out, you’re the one she would ask,” Rose says reasonably.

“Yes, but it wasn’t even me who found it.”

“All things alien lead to you,” Rose intones. “Do you fancy a break?”

That’s enough for him. He slides the report under his locked door and heads to the cafeteria with Rose.

“So why is Anna pawning her work off to you?” Rose asks when they’re sitting down.

He’s buttering a scone and doesn’t answer right away. “Don’t know.” He bites half of the scone off, chewing away and shrugging. “Sounds like she’s not sure what to make of it,” he continues once he’s able to talk again.

“Doesn’t sound like Anna.”

The Doctor considers Anna a friend, but is less concerned with whether she’s herself or not.

Unless - “You don’t suppose she’s been possessed by something?”

“What? No. What?”

“It would explain why she’s acting so oddly,” he explains.

“She’s not acting oddly. I was only wondering why she asked for your help. That’s not so odd. Now sit down and finish your scone.”

The Doctor had gotten halfway up out of chair, prepared to go track Anna down and discover what alien life force was inhabiting her body. Now he sits back down and picks up his scone. 

He’s a grown man, but Rose would wager that not even her small brother could outdo him in the pouting department.

“Here, have my chocolate biscuit.” She pushes it over to appease him. “Honestly, I think you’ve been watching too many movies. I thought you were more reasonable than this.”

“Rose, with everything we’ve seen, an alien possession would not be outside the realm of possibility. Do you recall the Slitheen? Or the Gelth? The Monantodes of Taurus Moon Six?”

“Tell you what,” she says with a grin, “if Anna turns out to be possessed, I will buy you dinner tonight.”

“All right,” he says. He picks up her biscuit and pops it into his mouth. Jensen from accounting stops by to say hello. The Doctor knows nearly everyone at Torchwood, whether he has regular contact with them or not. Rose smiles a greeting and lifts her mug of tea.

She doesn’t really believe that Anna is possessed by anything. She’s almost as certain that the Doctor doesn’t believe so either. It pains her to think that he might be inventing things because he’s bored. A part of Rose has never stopped waiting for him to tell her goodbye, to announce that he’s done playing house and is taking off to see the world before he withers and dies.

Not the healthiest outlook for a relationship, she’ll admit.

“Are you coming?”

Startled, Rose looks up to find the Doctor standing beside the table, looking down at her with raised brows.

“Sorry, what?”

“Are you coming?” he repeats. “We have a call out in the field.”

Rose blinks. She was so lost in thought that she’d not noticed Jensen leave, or the Doctor speaking to her.

“Yup.” She stands up, still holding her mug. “Coming.”

He glances at her sideways as they walk out of the cafeteria. “Are you sure,” he asks, holding the door open for her, “that you weren’t possessed by aliens recently?”


	4. This guy was meant for me and I was meant for him

“This is weird stuff,” the Doctor states the next morning, finally setting down the lab report Anna had given him.  
Unfortunately, there is no one around to hear him. Most of the time he’s happy in his lab, being left to his own devices when he’s not needed in the field or stuck in a meeting. Rose will come in most days, and other people tend to wander in throughout the day. When it comes to making impressive pronouncements, though, you can’t beat an audience.

Calling up the full field report on his computer, he scans the details of the field operation. Then he runs the collection, looking at the photos. It seems pretty routine on the surface. Crash site, no signs of life. Just the rock recovered. No signs of radiation.

It’s a small piece of rock, only several centimeters wide and a few more long. No visible markings. But it’s unlike any material, organic or manmade, that’s found on Earth. On this Earth, anyway.

He’s seen a lot of things, but with no computer of his own, the TARDIS computer, it’s hard to classify this thing. This annoys him. Even though he knows there’s nothing he can do about it, the fact that there’s another version of himself in a parallel world, swanning about with the TARDIS computer, irritates him.

The TARDIS computer _and_ the sonic screwdriver. He still hasn’t built a proper replacement for that, either. 

After an hour he’s no closer to an answer.

“You are perplexing,” he tells the rock. “Time was I’d have the answer out of you without breaking a sweat and have time left over to save the world.”

“You haven’t been talking to it, have you?” Jake asks from the doorway.

“Hello, Jake. I was just...conversing with this hunk of evidence.” Hearing the words come out of his mouth makes him wince. Well, at least he hasn’t licked it.

“One alien to another, yeah? Come on, we have an assignment.”

“Oh? Where’s Rose?”

“Waiting for us.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?”

“We did,” Jake says pointedly. “No answer.”

“Really? That’s...oh.” Having looked all around, the Doctor spots his phone underneath a pile of journals. “Oops. Got switched off somehow. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize to me, Doctor.” Jake has gotten used to this man, who at once is and isn’t an alien. “Rose didn’t look too happy, though.”

The Doctor stops in the middle of putting on his jacket and putting his headset in his ear. “She didn’t? Why not?”

Jake shrugs and heads for the door. “Don’t know.”

The Doctor’s mind is whirling with possibilities as he and Jake walk outside to meet Rose by the car. He’s paying no attention to the briefing Jake is giving him. As they meet Rose, he greets her with, “What’s wrong?”

Rose, in the middle of starting the car, looks back at him. “There’s nothing wrong,” she says in surprise. “Is there?”

Well. He can’t very well tell her he’s been waiting for her to change her mind about the house, about staying with him, about everything, can he? That would make him look desperate, and according to all those girly magazines she has around the flat, no woman wants a desperate man.

They don’t mention desperate aliens, but he assumes the spirit of the thing is the same.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, getting in the car. “Where are we going?”

“I just told you,” Jake says in surprise.

“Have you hit your head?” Rose asks.

 

After they return to Torchwood, Jake leaves to turn in their weapons. Rose goes to her office to write up the mission report.

“Shall I email it to you?” she asks the Doctor. “You can read it over before you sign off.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. There is a fifty-fifty chance that he will actually read it.

Rose waits. “Are you coming?” Usually he likes to watch as she types and correct her facts. After a few minutes of that he’ll take over the typing. That’s Rose’s favorite part, watching him type faster than he’s ever been able to before. 

“No, I’ve got some stuff to finish up.”

Rose nods slowly. “Okay. See you later.”

In the back of his mind the Doctor is aware that he’s acting all odd and distant, but the truth is that he’s distracted. The alien find is holding his attention and curiosity. Heading back to his lab, he reads over the lab reports again.

When he resurfaces it is well past leaving time. Outside the window London is dark. He curses under his breath. Either Rose is waiting for him, which means he’ll have to make it up to her, or she left without him. He doesn’t like it when she goes home alone at night, and no matter that she’s well capable of defending herself.

A quick check of his mobile phone shows no messages. Calling down to her office, and then Jake’s, he gets no response.

Well. He’ll have to be an adult and face her at home.

Despite his reservations, though, she’s not angry at all. It’s not usual for him to forget about her, not at all, but it’s not the first time it’s happened. They don’t always work on the same schedule.

“You were busy with something,” she greets him at their flat. “Figured I’d come home and eat without you.”

“You could have called up,” he counters, kicking off his shoes and falling into the couch beside her.

“Could have,” she agrees. “Maybe I thought I’d see if you noticed.” She slants him a sideways glance.

“Notice what?” he asks.

“If I was there or not.”

“Rose, don't be silly.” He can’t help feeling wrong-footed here, like he’s done something he shouldn't have done. Rose has a bowl of popcorn on her lap, and he absently swipes a handful.

“Is this dinner?”

“Did you make something else?” she asks politely.

Oh. She is a bit upset with him.

“No,” he says slowly. “I didn’t. Shall we get some takeaway?” he asks hopefully.

“Don’t feel like it,” Rose says breezily.

He sighs heavily. “How long am I supposed to feel terrible for forgetting you?”

She considers it. “A few more minutes.”

He sits in silence for maybe 30 seconds. 36, to be exact. “Now?”

“Not yet.”

23 seconds later, “Now?”

“No.”

“Rose, this is the outside of enough. Really.”

She breaks down and smiles at him. “It’s okay. Sorry I left without you.”

“You know I don’t like you to leave alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I walked out with Simon.”

“All the way home?”

“Well, no, but honestly, Doctor, I can take care of myself, yeah?”

He knows she can. The image of her running to him on a dark street, black gun in hand, will always be with him. He’s seen her handle weapons since then, although not often. He does not disapprove of them so much anymore, but he rarely sees the need for them.

Although, if he is completely honest with himself, Rose Tyler with a gun is...well, Jackie would kill him if she knew his thoughts on that subject, so better not to dwell on that right now. Although according to Rose’s girly magazines, the correct term would be “hot”. It is vaguely wrong to feel so attracted to the image of Rose carrying a gun, but human hormones don’t always listen to reason. He’s been discovering this over the past few weeks.

“Of course you can, Rose. No one knows that better than me, after all.” And that is the truth. She’s faced down Dalek emperors and beasts and werewolves, and the other image that will be with him for the rest of his life is of Rose, bathed in a a golden light with tears streaming down her face as she saved his life once more, thousands of years in the future and several lifetimes ago.

“All right, then,” he says, banishing Bad Wolf from his thoughts. “Dinner? What do you feel like?”

“Chinese?”

“Mmm. How about Italian?”

“Indian.”

“Italian.”

“Deal.”

Over a dinner of pizza and chips (Rose’s order made the waitress frown in puzzlement) he tells her about the alien object.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he concludes, winding up his presentation by waving a breadstick in the air.

“All right,” Rose says slowly, “so it’s new. But does that mean it’s new to this place, or just new to you?”

“To me?”

“Maybe you just haven’t seen it before. Maybe it’s as common as plastic on alien planets in this universe.”

“Come on, Rose, this is different.”

“You keep saying that, but different how? If I’m gonna get worked up over something I want to have some proof.”

“Listen to you,” he says admiringly. “All scientific and stuff.”

“Shut up.” But she does flush pink a bit. “Been listening to you too long is all.”

“Still, you have a point,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ll run some tests on it tomorrow.”

Rose chews a chip. “All we need to do is figure out where it came from. Find the aliens who brought it to Earth.”

“Should be easy enough,” he agrees. 

“Dessert?” The waitress has come back, holding out the check and dessert menus.

“No thanks,” he says absently. “I’m watching my figure.”

Mortified, Rose grabs the menus and sends the waitress away.

“I don’t care about any genetic meta-crisis,” she hisses. “Never say that in public again!”   
“Say what?” he asks around a mouthful of pizza.

“You’re watching your figure?- You’ve no reason to watch your figure! Honestly.” 

“Did I say that out loud? Thought I was just thinking it.”

“You banish that bit of Donna right out of your vocabulary,” Rose tells him. “Right now.”

“You know me. When I have ever turned down dessert?” He waves the waitress back over. “I’ll have to work on that.”

Despite herself, Rose can’t help laughing. To appease her sense of mortification, the Doctor orders two pieces of chocolate cake and eats them all. Rose is forced to agree that this will indeed show the waitress he’s not watching his figure.

 

When they’ve gone back home Rose picks up the mail, ignores the answering machine’s blinking red light, and heads for the couch. The Doctor pauses in the hallway to hang up his coat and pushes the play button. Jackie’s voice comes out, and he quickly shuts it off.

“Was that Mum?” she calls.

“Uh, bad connection,” he calls back. She can call Jackie tomorrow, once he’s left the flat. Or from her office, once he’s no longer in it.

When he joins Rose in the living room, she’s munching on leftover popcorn and sorting through the mail. The news is on the television, just in case there’s an alien invasion they’ve missed.

“How can you still be hungry?” he asks her, taking the bowl away. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Says the man who ate half a pizza and most of a cake for dinner.” She takes the bowl of popcorn back and hands him a magazine instead. “This must be yours. It says ‘new subscriber’ on it. Is that you?”

He takes it from her and looks at the cover. _Lights!Camera!Action!_ , the premier magazine for movie buffs and the movie industry.

“Yup, it’s mine.”

“Since when you are interested in the movies?” Beyond a hobby of screening science fiction films so he can torture himself over how inaccurate they are, he usually doesn’t care all that much about television or movies.

“I like to keep in touch with the mainstream,” he says loftily.

“What’s that mean?”

“I don’t know. I like it, though.” He opens up the magazine and starts scanning the table of contents.

Rose watches him for a moment, not sure what to make of this. The man has already earned a doctorate in physics since he’s been here, and is being pursued by five separate universities on three continents. He’s written an article on astronomy that sent the scientific community into convulsions just two months back. They finally decided he was correct on his theory and awarded him honorary memberships into various societies. He can track aliens and he stays with her because he wants to. And he’s reading a movie magazine.

“You are bonkers,” Rose tells him finally.

“Excuse me?”

“You just make no sense sometimes. None.”

He clearly doesn't understand what she’s talking about, which honestly, makes her love him even more. Well, let him enjoy the movies. At least he’s not bringing home teddy bears. Even as Rose thinks this she glances guiltily over at the trash can in the kitchen, where three small teddy bears are wrapped in newspaper, awaiting next trash day. He’s admitted that he can’t help it - he sees them and he has to buy them. Rose is doing her best to wait it out, hoping that it will fade in time.

When he brings home something just for her, though, like that sweet little toy turtle last week...well, not all stuffed toys are bad. 

She looks back to him and jumps. He’s lowered his magazine and is staring at her.

“What?” she asks defensively. If he’s choosing to try and read her mind he’ll surely figure out what’s happened to the toys he’s bought in the last few weeks.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” the Doctor says slowly.

“Oh? About what?”

He rolls his eyes. “Come on, let’s get to bed. It’s late.” He stands up and holds his hand out to her. His expression is hopeful enough that she can tell he’s hoping it's not _too_ late.

For a moment Rose is transported back to another time, a Christmas night with snow that wasn’t snow falling down around them, and a man in a brown suit holding out his hand and asking her with his eyes to take it. Smiling, she takes his hand now, lets herself be pulled up and into his embrace.

Later, before she falls asleep, she remembers something.

“Hey,” she whispers.

He murmurs something in response.

“You asleep?” she asks innocently.

“I was.” He rolls over and regards her in the dim light. “What is it?”

Rose feels a bit foolish, but better safe than sorry. “Did you mean it, what you said this morning?”

He shifts again, getting comfortable as he faces her. “Did I mean what this morning? I said a great many things, most of which you either ignored or discounted.”

“I don’t mean about horoscopes and stuff. I meant...are we gonna look for a bigger place to live?”

He props his head up on his arm. “I thought we’d agreed to.” He sounds like he’s upset but he doesn’t want her to know it. That reassures Rose more than almost anything else could. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I do!” she assures him quickly. “I do. I was just making sure you did.”

He chuckles and pulls her close to him. “I meant it, Rose Tyler. Every word.”


	5. No one, nothing, nothing, no one could make me feel the way I’m feeling

_“You will find what you are looking for this week,_ ” the Doctor reads. _“A difficult situation will be made easy. Avoid shellfish.”_

Rose smothers a laugh and sets down her spoon. “Avoid shellfish?”

“That’s a very specific horoscope,” he agrees, tossing the newspaper down and buttering some toast. “But very wise. There are all sorts of shellfish that can make you ill. The fifth moon of the planet Sec has shellfish that can kill a man after one swallow.”

They’re having breakfast together before work, a comforting ritual that Rose has never grown tired of. Both in their pajamas, watching the news or reading the paper or just talking. It’s very cozy and very human, and she relishes every chance they have to be normal. They are normal and human, both of them, but their lives tend to be complicated. Rose is amused by herself at moments like this. She used to be the girl who wanted adventures. Now all she wants is to sit home with the man she loves and do what other normal couples do.

Rose watches him over the edge of her mug. His hair is standing up on end. He’s wearing the shirt he slept in last night and there is a small cut by his eye, a souvenir of yesterday’s hunt for an alien that was really a drug thief. “Sounds more like the writer is having a hard time making up predictions.”

“It’s an uncertain field sometimes,” he admits, peering at the top of the page. “But I’m sure Janet Jupiter is up to the task.”

Rose doesn’t hide her laughter this time. “Janet Jupiter?”

“Oi, it’s a fine name.” But he grins at her, his dimple appearing as he shares the joke with her. “Could’ve been Polly Pluto.”

“Or Sally Saturn,” she agrees.

“I met a Sally Sparrow once,” he says, remembering. “I doubt she was into horoscopes, though.”

“Well, then, I like her already. Where’d you meet her?”

“1969.”

“What were you doing in 1969? And when? And who with?”

“I was sent back by predators called the Weeping Angels. We were caught unawares, you might say.”

“Who’s we? You and Donna?” Rose is taking a slight risk by speaking the name, but enough time has passed that he’s been able to accept Donna’s probable fate. He won’t speak about it, not yet, not even to her, but references like this are usually safe for her to bring up.

“No, Martha was with me.”

Rose nods thoughtfully. She knows all about Martha Jones, and she doesn’t feel jealous that Martha was able to travel with the Doctor while she was stuck here. Martha and Donna kept him sane while they were separated, and she doesn’t take that sort of thing lightly. She knows only too well what could have been his fate. She’s seen his possible fate so many times on so many different worlds. She will always be grateful to Martha Jones and Donna Noble.

“Where does Sally Sparrow come into this?”

“She gave me a package that I then arranged to get to her that she later gave to me to give to her so she could solve the problem.”

Rose considers this seriously. “That almost makes sense.”

He finishes explaining the Weeping Angels phenomenon as they shower and get dressed for work. As he works gel through his hair his hands get more animated, explaining the process that the creatures used to capture people and send them into the past.

“Benign in that aspect, but you have to start over.”

Rose pauses in the act of choosing a pair of trousers to wear, tries to imagine having to start over in the past. “What did you do while you were in 1969?”

“Tried to get back, of course. Wasn’t too difficult, once I met up with the right people.”

She can imagine that, can picture him marshaling his forces and working out some improbable solution that would get him back home even without the TARDIS.

“What did Martha do? She couldn’t go work in a hospital, could she?” Rose chooses black trousers and picks out a pair of boots to go with them.

“No, she didn’t have the right credentials. She went to work in a shop.”

Rose smiles. “Did she?” Not that she’s ever felt intimidated by Martha Jones, the woman who walked the Earth for a whole year to save everyone from the Master. The woman with a medical degree. The woman who met Shakespeare.

All right, sometimes she does feel a bit intimidated. But the Doctor clearly wanted her most of all, and Martha was never more than a companion for him. Rose can feel sympathy for Martha for that, and she did indeed like the woman when they met.

“She wasn’t all that great at it,” he admits. “Hated waiting on people and being spoken down to. It was hard for her. I couldn’t work, though. I had to do everything else.” He puts on a dress shirt and slowly buttons the front. “I used to think that you’d be so much better in 1969,” he says softly, forcing Rose to listen hard to make out his words. “You would have gone to work and not complained and done whatever we needed to get us home.”

A heart can break more than once, Rose knows. She walks over to him and puts her arms around him.

“You found me now,” she says into his chest.

He hugs her tightly. She smells like flowers and rain and sunshine. “I did,” he says into her hair. “I did. That’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done.”

“No,” she corrects him, raising her head to look him in the eye. “The most brilliant thing you’ve ever done is being human and staying with me.”

“That wasn’t hard to do,” he disagrees. “It was the only thing I wanted.”

“Me too.” She hugs him back. “That’s all I ever wanted, too.”

 

“So all we know is that this is of alien origin,” the Doctor says. “But I have no way of learning anything else right now. It’s very frustrating.”

Anna nods, sipping a mug of tea at her desk. “I didn’t find anything new, either. Haven’t you got some friends at a university round here we could send it to?” 

“I do,” he agrees. “But we try to keep the whole alien phenomenon on a low profile.”

“Not that it’s not a fine Torchwood policy,” she counters, “but most of the world already knows about aliens, what with the Cybermen and all.”

“I know, but Pete was pretty clear on that this morning.” He’s still a bit annoyed with Pete Tyler, actually. A call or two to his university contacts would have helped out his investigation. Pete had refused, not wanting outside involvement.

Anna walks over to the table where he’s set down the piece of rock. She bends down to look at it up close and almost skewers his eye with a metal stick that’s poking up from her hair.

“Hey! What is that?”

“What’s what?” Anna glances around the room.

“That! In your hair.”

“Oh, this?” Anna pulls the metal stick - two of them, actually - out of her bun and holds them up. He takes an uneasy step back.

“They’re knitting needles,” she tells him. “See?”

“You make sweaters and things with those, don’t you? With yarn. Why are they in your hair?”

“I’m teaching a knitting class tonight,” she tells him enthusiastically. “I didn’t want to lose them - they’re my favorite pair.”

“Oh.” Now that he’s not in danger of losing an eye he can get back to work. “All right, then. So long as my eye’s not in danger.”

“I was going to ask Rose if she wants to come.”

“To a knitting class?” He loves Rose dearly, of course, but she’s not exactly the knitting type.

“Riley’s coming. And some of the girls from upstairs.”

“What, the office drones?” That’s what the Torchwood field agents affectionately call anyone who’s not a Torchwood field agent.

“Yeah. Let Rose know about it, okay? After work in the cafeteria. They’re keeping it open late for me.”

 

“Really? Knitting?” Rose considers this as she eats her mid-morning yogurt at her desk.

That she is considering it at all surprises him. “Do you want to learn to knit?”

“I don’t know. Never had the chance before.” She licks her spoon, causing him to momentarily lose track of the conversation. “Maybe I will.”

“Will what?”

“Learn to knit.”

He blinks, forcing his train of thought back to the conversational topic at hand. “Yes, knitting. Right.”

The more Rose thinks about it, the more she warms to the idea. “I could make Tony a little sweater. Make you a scarf.”

He smiles suddenly. “I had a nice scarf once,” he tells her. “Nice and long. I miss it.”

She tilts her head. “What about the one we bought when we went shopping? Right after we came back.”

“That’s a nice scarf,” he says, “but one you make would be better.”

She smiles at him. 

 

They spend the afternoon with Jake. With no live action to track, they’re going over case files and status reports, making sure paperwork is in order. Simon’s team joins them in the conference room they’ve taken over for the day.

“Although why paperwork needs to be in order, I can’t tell,” Simon says, tossing the Doctor another file. “I don’t think anyone reads them after we write them.”

“They go somewhere,” Jake disagrees.

“Yeah, they go somewhere. But where? Is there a library somewhere with big filing cabinets?”

“A database would be better,” Rose says. “Easier to track.”

“I’ve never heard of one,” Riley says interestedly. 

“Well, don’t put it in the suggestion box,” Simon warns, “or you’ll end up heading it up.”

“No, the drones will do that,” Ian reminds him. “All those IT men with their pens in their pockets and glasses.”

A slight silence follows this statement. The Doctor has just put his glasses on, and although there are no pens on his person there is the beginning of a sonic screwdriver sticking out of his pocket.

“I have no pens on my person,” the Doctor says sternly. “And I am hardly a drone.”

“More like an exotic pet,” Riley agrees.

He squints at her. “What?”

“Moving on,” Jake says hastily. 

“What do you mean, ‘an exotic pet’?”

“A llama,” Riley says, deadpan.

“Or a giant lizard,” Ian suggests from the doorway.

“A Komodo dragon?” Rose asks.

She’s greeted by blank stares. 

“What’s a Komodo dragon?” Simon finally asks.

Rose and the Doctor exchange a glance.

“Oh, that’s right,” Riley says cheerfully. “Something else we haven’t got on this world. Quite all right. Ian, did you bring snacks?”

“Doughnuts.”

“Excellent.”

They whip through all the reports and stack the folders neatly in a box to be taken upstairs. Ian volunteers for this task, and the others get ready to leave.

“I’m staying,” Rose reminds the Doctor. “Gonna see what knitting’s all about.”

“Shall I wait for you?” he asks, but Riley gently shoves him out of the way.

“We don’t need you,” she tells him. “Go blow something up. Or go home and rewire the toaster. We’ll see you later.”

Rose glances over her shoulder. “Don’t rewire the toaster,” she says urgently.

“Have fun!” the Doctor says, making no promises regarding toasters.

An hour later Rose is sorely regretting her decision. Anna is making loops and strings with her needles and some yarn. All around her women from Torchwood are trying their hand at knitting with varying degrees of success. Even Riley has managed to knit a row that Anna approves of.

No matter how hard she tries, Rose’s needles will not cooperate. When she sees Sheila from Human Resources triumphantly hold up a small section of knitted and purled yard, Rose has to resist the urge to throw her needles. Sheila is partially blind in one eye and has glasses as thick as Coke bottles. Or she would, if this world had bottles of Coca-Cola instead of funny plastic tubes.

Rose unravels the mess in her lap and determinedly starts again. Thankfully, her phone rings and she jumps up.

“I’ll see you later,” she tells Riley, and heads to the door before Anna can stop her.

The caller hung up without leaving a message. She doesn’t recognize the number, and figures it doesn’t matter. She goes home, sticking her needles and yarn into a potted plant in the reception area on the way out.

 

“How was the class?” the Doctor asks when she gets home. He’s at the kitchen table, scrolling through something on his laptop.

“Good,” she says brightly. “It was very good.”

“What’d you learn?”

“Oh, how to knit. And purl. And stuff,” she says vaguely. “Are you hungry?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Did you cook?”

“Uh uh.” 

“What are you doing?” she finally asks.

He turns the laptop so she can see the screen. “There were some odd readings over at the astronomy lab last year. Shooting stars that shouldn’t have been shooting, things like that.”

Rose peers at the screen but can’t make much out of it. “Do we have that data over at Torchwood?”

“I don’t think so. I haven’t seen it before. Plus,” and he points out the date on the header of the information, “this would have been around the time you were working with the Dimension Cannon.”

“Yeah, we were a bit busy back then,” she agrees.

She goes to the bedroom to change her clothes, and the Doctor sneaks a glance at her as she leaves. Was that a note of regret in her voice just then? Regret that the Dimension Cannon did work? Or regret that it didn’t work the way she meant it to? Or was it simply a comment?

He stops that train of thought and rubs his eyes with his hands. Blimey, but this being jealous of yourself is hard to put up with.

“How’s the TARDIS?” Rose asks when she’s back in the kitchen. She’s changed into sweats and a t-shirt and put her hair up in a ponytail. She looks almost as young as the day they met.

“Good,” he says absently. “On schedule.”

“I was thinking about the house,” she says, sitting down across from him. “We ought to find an estate agent.”

“Okay,” he agrees. 

She can’t resist. “You’ll have to get a mortgage,” she teases.

The first time she said those words to him, on that impossible planet orbiting that impossible black hole, he’d felt panic. Right below the panic was a slow kind of temptation, a recognition that it was something that he wanted very much. He’d forced it aside that day, and had forced it aside many times before that and after. Here was his chance to make up for all of that.

“I’m ready,” he assures her. “Ready and willing. Ready and able. Ready, set, go. Ready steady. Ready-”

“I’m ready, too,” she says. “Let me call my mum.”

“Your mum? What for?” he asks, slightly suspicious. They usually have Sunday dinner at Pete and Jackie’s, and frequently stop by during the week to say hello and to see little Tony. Today is Thursday, and it’s late enough that Tony will be in bed by now.

“About an estate agent. If she doesn’t know one, Dad will.”

“We could probably find our own.”

“Yeah, but this way we’ll get someone good.”

He grins at her. “Rose Tyler, are you using the family name for your own personal gain?”

“Maybe,” she says shiftily.

He shrugs. “Have at it.”

Rose is on the phone with her mum for a rather long time, even for the two of them. The Doctor makes spaghetti, eats his portion, and is watching a movie by the time Rose comes out of the bedroom.

“Where’d you go?” he demands in annoyance. “Dinner’s gone all cold.”

“Sorry. Mum had a lot to fill me in on.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, Tony and her friends and bridge club and what happened at some company dinner for Vitex last night.” Rose fixes a plate for herself and goes back to sit next to him.

“Is that all?”

“And...”

“And what?” he demands. “I knew it. It’s always something with your mother.”

“No, love, calm down. It’s just...Dad thinks that I should be involved at Vitex.”

He stares at her. “Pete wants you to work at Vitex?”

“No, not like that. I’m staying put at Torchwood. I like aliens better than health drinks, you know.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“He wants me to sit on the board of directors.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You get to run the show.”

“Help run the show. It’s a lot of responsibility, though,” Rose says, voicing the concern she didn’t say to her mother. “I don’t know anything about business. They’ll just treat me like the little rich girl.”

“They do that now,” he feels obligated to remind her. “In a nice way, but that’s how they see you. It’s not a bad thing,” he adds hastily.

Rose nods slowly. “I know. I want to help Pete. He’s been so good to me. I feel like I owe him something.”

“It’ll be fun. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.”

Rose east her dinner without really tasting any of it. She puts her plate in the kitchen sink and returns to find him watching the tv.

“I think we’re in a routine,” she says, settling next to him. He puts his arm around her and holds her close. “Is that bad?”

“Well, we run all day chasing aliens and alien tech. We need to relax at night. But maybe we could do something else sometimes.” He thinks for a moment. “Do you want to go ice skating?

“You know what I mean.”

“Are you bored with me?” he asks her.

“No! No, I’m not.” She finds the courage to say what she’s thinking. “Are you bored with me? I know my life isn’t all danger and excitement, and there’s my family now, and we can’t go traveling anywhere for a while, and now I want to -”

“Rose,” he interrupts. “Rose.” He says her name so softly, so tenderly, that she wants to cry.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“I am the complete, total, absolute opposite of bored with you. I’m having so much fun, just getting to wake up beside you and go to sleep beside you and hear you tell me that you love me.”

“Yeah?” she asks mistily.

“Yeah. And that was a hint, by the way.”

“Oh, sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too. We’ve had far more of our share of danger and excitement. I reckon we ought to take our quiet moments where we can.”

“Me too.” She snuggles up against his side, taking his hand in hers. “What are we watching?”

“It’s called _Supernova._ It’s about a small town in Scotland - or maybe it’s Ireland - that’s on the verge of being obliterated by an imploding star.”

“Oh,” she says doubtfully. “It sounds exciting. You still on the science - fiction kick, then?”

“This one's not bad. Here, it’s almost over.” He turns the volume back up and they watch as the citizens of the Scottish - or Irish - town put together a device designed to wipe out the coming disaster while preserving the Earth. They emerge victorious, of course, and the closing credits begin over images of crazed townspeople dancing for joy against a burning sky. The credits end and fade to a black screen. Under a logo of a movie camera are the words “Sam Lively Productions”.

“That was weird,” Rose states. “Sorry.”

He’s still staring at the screen. “That device... the device they built...it was a Jaffi’ra device. It can absorb explosions without destroying its surroundings. Humans don’t have the technology to ward off a supernova event yet, of course, but that was pretty accurate.”

“Was it?” Rose isn’t all that interested, but she’s trying to be polite. _Star Wars_ this movie was not.

“Almost...almost bizarrely accurate.”

“Amazing,” Rose agrees.

“Incredibly accurate.”

Rose stands up. “I’m gonna take a shower.” She leaves him staring at the tv screen with a fixed expression. Not for the first time, she wonders and worries about the long-term effects that might arise from a genetic meta-crisis. 

On her way to the bathroom she stops to peek in on the baby TARDIS. It looks the same as before, to her untrained eye. 

“Don’t grow up too fast,” she tells it.


	6. Out of the blue and there I met you

There are many strange things about living with a half-human, half-Time Lord. Rose would be tempted to write a book on the subject, but there’s a fairly limited audience.

For one thing, half-human, half-Time Lord males have odd sleeping patterns. Her half-human, half-Time Lord male goes to bed with her each night but pops up as soon as she’s asleep, going off to do whatever it is he does in the late night hours. He’ll come back to bed for three or four hours and then get up again before she’s awake. He needs roughly half the amount of sleep as a normal human, he told her once.

For another thing, Rose’s understanding of Time Lord biology, limited as it is, always led her to believe that they could control their emotions and desires better than most males of any species. She attributes this to the way they produced offspring on looms - whatever that was - instead of the traditional fashion most other species use.

Her Doctor was always very good at withholding that part of himself. Right before she fell through the Void, Rose had thought that they were growing closer. She’d hoped for something more. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, not for her and a Time Lord.

But a genetic meta-crisis got in the way and gave her a human male with a Time Lord mind. And this human male is very much a slave to emotions and desires.

“You’re a slave to your hormones,” Rose tells him that morning after one such demonstration. Well, two.

“Am I?” He doesn’t sound too worried about it. “Well, I’m still new to this. It’s to be expected. I’m sure in a few years I won’t have any interest at all in you.”

“You’re acting like a teenager,” she accuses him.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” he smirks. 

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

She doesn’t have a point, actually. “It’s not a point. More of an observation.”

He yawns and eyes her from across his pillow. “What are you observing, Rose Tyler?”

Honestly, she will never get tired of the way he says her name. 

“It’s fun,” she confesses. “This. You and me. It’s fun.”

“Being human is fun,” he agrees. “Shame I waited so long to do it.” 

 

As he’s leafing through _Lights!Camera!Action!_ later that morning, the Doctor comes across a familiar name.

_“Sam Lively, writer and director of such sci-fi faves as_ Supernova, They Came from the Moon, _and_ Neptune’s Platoon, _will be honored next month with a Spock, the highest honor a sci-fi guy can achieve.”_

Thoughtfully, the Doctor makes a note of the movies he hasn’t seen. Just for research, he tells himself. Curiosity, really. Certainly nothing else.

He hears Rose finishing up in the bathroom and puts away the magazine and the notebook where he’s scribbled down the movie titles. He’s not hiding anything, of course, and certainly not hiding anything from Rose. He’s just...making notes. It’s not like he’s _hiding_ anything from her. She doesn’t even care for the sci-fi genre very much.

Rose walks into the kitchen, fluffing out her freshly dried and styled hair. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing is up. Should something be up? Why do you ask if I’m up to something? Your hair looks lovely today.” The Doctor clamps his mouth shut to keep from babbling some more.

Rose gives him an unreadable look and reaches for a box of cereal. “Thanks.” If she wasn’t suspicious before, she is now. He doesn’t have the gob that he used to, and he doesn’t babble on about nothing very much anymore, but sometimes, when he’s nervous or stalling, he’ll start to talk on and on about nothing at all. 

“We haven’t had a holiday in ages,” the Doctor says as she sits down across from him. “Years, really, not since the last time we went to visit your mother.” He tries to swallow the words as he speaks them but it’s too late. Rose flinches a bit at the memory but manages to smile at him.

“That was a while ago,” she agrees. “But I don’t know that we can get away from work right now. And where would we go?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Someplace fun?” 

“Chasing down aliens isn’t fun enough?” she smirks.

He watches her chew her cereal. “It’s certainly fun,” he admits. “Are you having fun, though?”

“Yeah. It’s been nice, working with you.”

He brightens up. “Well, thanks.”

Rose swallows and reaches for his hand. He lets her take it, watching her with a question in his eyes.

“Are you having fun, Doctor?” she asks him earnestly. “Because I know how hard it was to come here. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy. I’m with you.” He smiles and kisses her hand, an old-fashioned gesture that takes her by surprise. “A holiday will have to wait. The TARDIS isn’t exactly portable right now.”

Rose used to love traveling in the TARDIS. The whooshing, the excitement of new places, never knowing if they were going to end up in the proper time and place...She’s actually a bit surprised to hear him mention the baby TARDIS they’re nurturing. It’s growing here in her flat, and she keeps forgetting they have it.

“It is always gonna be so dependent?” she asks.

“It’s not dependent now, not really. I’m just making sure everything goes right.” He stands up to get the morning paper. Rose listens to their front door open and nods to herself. It’s the last thing he has of home, and of course he’s anxious to keep it.

“Mysterious fire near the Thames,” the Doctor reports, coming back to the kitchen with the paper unfurled. “Boat caught on fire.”

“Anybody hurt?”

“No. Looks suspicious.” He lowers the paper to look at her. “Wonder if it was a spaceship.”

Rose grins. “A ship flown by a spacepig?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Maybe.” He turns to a new section, much as Rose knew he would. “Here we are.”

“Here’s what?”

_“Be ready to take a risk. Don’t be afraid to go with your instincts. Eat Chinese for lunch today.”_

“Is that Janet Jupiter again?” Rose asks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He hands her the paper. 

“She’s beyond ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but Chinese for lunch sounds good, don’t you think?”

 

The mysterious fire by the Thames, rather disappointingly, turns out to be just a boating accident. Torchwood is slow again. Aliens either show up by the spaceship-full or not at all lately.

Jake and Rose are hiding in Rose’s basement office, casually leafing through old caselogs that need to be signed off and filed away. Rose had a real office that wasn’t in the basement, but she found that she missed this one too much. Simon and Ian and Riley have moved out, so she’s by herself a lot of the time. Jake has a desk there, but he’s not one for paperwork if he can avoid it. The Doctor will stop by, of course, but usually they meet in the office next to his lab.

“What’d you do last night?” Rose asks as she sifts through old notes on a case that she can’t remember.

“Went out with some friends.” Jake is not talkative at the best of times, but even this is a bit short. Rose glances up.

He grimaces. “Went out, had a fight, went home.”

“Who’d you fight with?” she asks, concerned.

“My friend’s girlfriend. She says that all these aliens are nothing but stories made up by the government to keep Londoners afraid.”

“Seriously? Doesn’t she remember the Cybermen?”

“‘Course she does. She’s a stupid one, that one. I didn’t mean to get into it with her, but having seen what I’ve seen, I wasn’t going to let her trash us all.”

Rose nods. “Good work, Jake.”

“Are you finished?” the Doctor asks from her doorway. “I just gave my findings on that rock to Pete,” he says, coming in and and setting aside a pile of folders to sit down in a chair.

“I thought you had no findings,” Jake says.

“I didn’t. Anna didn’t come up with anything, either. That’s what we told Pete.”

“He must have liked that,” Rose murmurs. Her dad likes to have all evidence presented, catalogued and fully described. Unknown things make him nervous.

“He wasn’t happy but we did all that we can do at the moment.” 

“At the moment?” Rose questions. “What else can you do with it?”

“I have a few theories I’ll be testing out.” The Doctor is signing his name with a flourish on paper after paper, giving his authorization that everything’s in order. Rose hopes everything is.

“Have you read all those?” Jake asks.

“I’m sure I did at some point.” He finishes his last signature, a scribble that reads Doctor John Smith. He’s fond of it only because it encompasses his name and his assumed name, and is largely illegible. “There we are. Right as rain. Good as new and ready to be filed.”

“We’re done early,” Rose observes. “Are you hungry?”

Jake glances at his watch. “Shall we stay here in case something comes up?”

“How about Chinese?” The Doctor asks. They all turn to look at him and he shrugs. “It’s Friday, we’re here, no reason to eat in the cafeteria today.”

“That sounds good,” Jake agrees.

Rose nods. “You’re not doing this because of the paper, are you?”

He looks surprised and confused. “What paper, Rose?”

“The newspaper. The horoscope?”

To her relief he laughs. “Of course not.”

“You read the horoscopes?” Jake’s voice sounds slightly appalled.

“Just for fun,” the Doctor assures him. “As a sociological experiment.”

China Palace is just down the street. They are seated at a table and are perusing menus when someone across the room catches Rose’s eye. It’s a woman dressed in a black trench coat and dark glasses. It’s an odd look to be sporting indoors. Rose’s curiosity increases when the woman looks up, seems to meet Rose’s gaze, and then jerks her head back down to the tabletop.

Weird.

Soon after their orders arrive, the woman in the black trench coat stands up to leave. She walks across the restaurant and past their table, angling her head in such a way that she’s staring directly at the Doctor. He is talking to Jake and doesn’t notice. Rose sips her drink and pretends not to notice, either.

The woman continues on her way. Rose watches her leave and head down the street, the opposite direction from Torchwood.

“You okay?” Jake asks her.

“Fine,” she says. “Fine.”

He’s followed her line of vision but doesn’t see anything unusual. “Is something out there?”

The Doctor looks to see what they’re looking at. “You two okay?”

“I’m going with my instincts,” Rose says finally.

“My instincts say yours a bit confused,” he points out. “There’s nothing there.”

“Maybe.” Rose takes a sip of her drink and glances out the window again. “You never know.”

 

Rose wakes up slowly. The knowledge that it’s Saturday is wonderful and comforting, and she stretches her arms over her head.

“No invasions,” the Doctor murmurs in her ear. “No invading species coming to our doorstep.”

She hums in agreement and turns to wrap her arms around his neck. “Just you and me.”

“I don’t have such a problem with sleeping so much,” he says into her neck. He goes to bed later than she does and wakes up earlier, but it’s still an excessive amount of sleep, in his opinion.

“No,” Rose agrees, a bit breathlessly. “You’ve adjusted well.”

“To sleep and to other things.” He kisses and Rose lets him show her what else he’s adjusted to. She kisses him back, twines her hands through his hair.

Later, Rose wakes up quickly and looks around. The Doctor is writing on a pad of paper, lying beside her in bed.

“Did I fall asleep?” she asks him.

“Just for a few minutes.” He grins at her. “I take it as a compliment.”

“Shut up.” But she can’t help smiling back. “What are you doing?”

“Making a list.”

“List of what?”

He shows her the sheet of paper he’s been scribbling on.

_To-Do (Short-term)_

_1\. grow TARDIS  
2\. manufacture circuits  
build console  
set circuitry  
eye of harmony? find possible replacement_

Rose assumes this list is for the TARDIS. Even reading it over twice doesn’t help her understand it any better.

She holds it up. “How long will this take?”

He peers at the page. “Oh, that’s just the first things I need to do once the TARDIS is grown. That’ll take seven to twelve months, I think.”

“Just for these?”

He shrugs. “I’m hardly in a position to go running around the universe for parts, am I?”

Rose props her head on her hand. “What’d you...do, you know, before?”

He smiles sadly. “There were other TARDISes around. We could wait for them to grow.”

“Even with what Donna told you to do?”

“What, if you shatterfry the cosmic shell and modify the dimensional stabiliser to a foldback harmonic of 36.3, you accelerate growth by the power of 59?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. That.”

“It still takes time. Not that we have all the time in the world,” he adds with a quick grin. “But enough.”

A knock on the door grabs their attention.

“Who’s that?” Rose wonders in a mild panic, reaching for her clothes. “It’s only eight o’clock.” It’s a fairly secured building - you can’t just walk in off the street and start knocking on doors.

“Not your mother, I hope,” he mutters, pulling on his own pants.

“Don’t be silly. Mum calls first. Well, usually,” Rose amends, recalling one memorable day when Jackie not only failed to call ahead but let herself in. By the expression on his face she can tell he remembers that one exactly. 

Rose dresses first and she hurries to the door. Opening it, she beholds a woman dressed in an immaculate gray suit. Her blonde hair is swept up in an elaborate knot, and huge luminous pearls hang at her ears and at her throat. She smiles at Rose with a perfectly made-up face and blue eyes fringed with long dark lashes.

Clearly she’s got the wrong door. “Can I help you?” Rose asks, feeling a bit underdressed in her sweats and t-shirt. She tries to shove her hair back over her shoulders.

“Are you Rose Tyler?”

“Yes,” she says cautiously. She’s aware of the Doctor coming up behind her, standing close and putting his hand on her waist.

The woman smiles in delight. “So glad to have found you at home! I’m Sally Marshall.” She holds out her hand to the Doctor, who shakes it without removing his other hand from Rose’s waist. He’s clearly not sure about this visitor.

The name doesn’t sound familiar to Rose. 

“Do I, do I know you?” Rose asks politely, shaking the hand that Sally’s held out to her.

“Your mother called me this week! She asked if I wouldn’t mind showing the two of you some properties.”

“Properties,” Rose parrots. Maybe it’s too early in the morning for her brain to function properly.

The Doctor is three steps ahead of her, as usual. “Are you an estate agent?” he asks. “We weren’t expecting one.”

“Well, Mrs. Tyler called me herself. I was so flattered that she would take the time out to track me down! I helped her friend Midge buy a house just last month. Same neighborhood as your parents,” she confides. “Smaller floor plan but beautiful garden.”

“Oh. So Mum called you.” Rose clears her throat and opens the door wider. “I’m sorry, won’t you come in? We’ve been working all week and this is our first day at home.”

Sally steps inside, carrying a briefcase with her. “Not at all, Ms. Tyler. Do you prefer Ms. Tyler, or may I call you Rose? One doesn’t want to be rude.”

“Oh, no, Rose is all right. Please, come into the kitchen.”

Luckily the table is cleared off and there are no dishes in the sink. They all sit down at the table, Rose’s mind racing with worry. This woman thinks she is some kind of wealthy heiress. How does a wealthy heiress act? She can play the part at parties, but never on her own before. Jackie and Pete have always been there with her. It helps to catch each other’s mistakes.

The Doctor looks absolutely fascinated. Rose can’t tell yet if it’s because he’s enjoying this early morning visitor or because he’s that excited about finding a house.

“And you’re Dr. Smith,” Sally says, and holds out her hand for him to shake. “So nice to meet you. Jackie told me a lot about you.”

He snatches his hand back. “Don’t believe her.”

She laughs and opens up her briefcase. “Now.” Her tone turns businesslike. “Let’s go over my contract, and then we can discuss what you’re looking for in a home.”

“I don’t think we’ve really had time to think about that,” the Doctor admits. “We just decided the other day to find a bigger place.”

Sally smiles. “Perfect. I have the morning free. Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for?”

 

Two hours late Sally is gone, and Rose collapses on the couch. “I feel like I was just interviewed for a position and passed over,” she complains. “I can’t believe Mum called her without telling us.”

“I believe it,” he says. He sits on the floor beside the couch and covers his face with a pillow. “That was just awful. Who knew houses come in so many styles?”

“And neighborhoods,” Rose agrees, although having grown up in a house herself, she did know about styles and neighborhoods ahead of time.

The phone rings and Rose reaches for it. “Hello? Mum? I’m gonna kill you.”

“What’s wrong?” Jackie’s voice sounds alarmed, even over the phone.

“Sally Marshall stopped by, that’s what’s wrong. First thing this morning with no warning.”

“She’s very good, sweetheart. She’s perfect.”

“I know we’re looking for a place, but we just started thinking about it. Now I’ve got this woman making appointments to take us all over London next week.”

“Oh, where is she taking you?” Jackie asks interestedly. 

“She’s going to surprise us,” Rose says gloomily.

“Surprise you? With a house to look at? Didn’t you tell her what you want?”

“I don’t know yet what I want,” Rose says patiently.

“Of course you do, Rose. A nice garden out back, a decent kitchen, enough bedrooms upstairs for children.”

“Mum,” Rose says hastily, lest this turn into a conversation about her potential offspring, “I’ve got to go. I haven’t done the shopping.”

“Well, come round afterwards. Your father wants to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“The board position. Come for lunch! See you later!”

“No, Mum, wait.” But Jackie’s already hung up.

“What was that all about?” the Doctor asks.

“Mum wants to have us for lunch,” she tells him, hanging up the phone.

“There goes the weekend,” he says grumpily.

 

Tony is waiting for them when they pull up to the house.

“Rose! John! Look what I got!” He’s holding up a large, red robot.

“Lovely, sweetheart,” Rose assures him.

“My name is Doctor,” the Doctor says encouragingly. “Can you call me that?”

Tony frowns, his bottom lip sticking out. “John.”

“No, call me Doctor.”

Tony thrusts the robot at Rose. “Come see.”

“Okay,” she says.

The Doctor scowls as they head into the house. A few weeks ago Tony was taken to the doctor’s office under false pretenses and given his vaccinations. He’s managed to forgive Jackie for the pain and deception this caused, but the mention of doctors in any form still makes him upset. He’s renamed the Doctor by himself and refuses to change it.

It drives the Doctor mad.

“You’ll get used to it,” Rose tells him now. “People call you that at work all the time.”

“They’re supposed to call me that,” he says, overlooking the fact that half the time he doesn’t respond to the name John Smith. “Tony is supposed to be informal with me.”

Rose smiles at him. Only he would consider Doctor less formal than John. 

Jackie serves them chicken salad at lunch. The chicken is spooned into small rolls and set on her good china. It’s clearly a special occasion.

“Here.” Jackie passes the Doctor a plate filled with the sandwiches. “Mrs. Colton made these just for you.”

“Did she?” He smiles with pleasure at the thought of Jackie’s housekeeper. “I’ll just pop in afterwards and thank her.”

The housekeeper dotes on him, and he shamelessly encourages this devotion. It usually drives Jackie mad, but Rose finds it cute.

“Jackie says you’re going to start looking at houses,” Pete says to Rose.

She nods. “Yeah. We’re going to go round London with her on Monday after work.”

Pete clears his throat and glances first at Jackie and then at the Doctor. “If you need a larger place we can buy one for you.”

The Doctor looks up at that. “We can take care of it, Pete.” He’s not human male enough to be insulted by the offer, but he does know he’s capable of doing this on his own.

“I know. But to get one that’s good enough, and large enough for you,” Pete begins.

“Dad. We’re fine, yeah? You can help us choose it, if you want.”

“Leave them, Pete,” Jackie says. “They know what they’re doing.”

The Doctor shoots her a furtive look. “Thanks, Jackie.”

“Of course.” She smiles at him, and though they’ve always been friendly since he came back to this world with Rose this new show of affection makes him uneasy without knowing why.

“Just make sure you choose a proper neighborhood,” Jackie says to Rose. “You don’t want to settle someplace undesirable.”

“We thought we’d buy something close to the Powell estate,” Rose says casually.

“Don’t you dare!” Jackie says indignantly, at the same time that Pete says, “What?”

“I’m just joking.”

“Honestly.” Jackie glowers at her daughter. Just because they once lived there doesn’t mean she wants Rose to go back.

“Of course Rose is joking,” the Doctor says soothingly. “She’d never want to put me in any danger.”

“Danger!” Rose splutters. “When were we ever in any danger back home?”

“You mean aside from plastic arms and Slitheen?”

“Well, they were there only because of you.”

“Rotating Christmas trees?”

“Again, that was you.”

Pete shakes his head. “You’d be better off moving back here than going there. The estate on this world wasn’t much different, from what your mother told me about yours. Jackie and I lived there when we were first married.” He means his first Jackie, of course, the one who was Cyberized. Rose can’t help but feel guilty at the thought of her. Her mother continues eating. She’s drawn her own conclusions about Pete’s first wife, and doesn’t think too highly of her.

“Dad,” Rose says, ready to change the topic, “I don’t know if being on the board for Vitex is a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” he corrects her. “You don’t have to work at the company, Rose. Just sit on the board when there’s a meeting, vote once a year, and be visible.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know enough to do that.”

“You do. I’ll help you.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t know anything about business.”

“Rose, I’m spending more time at Torchwood than I’d like lately. It helps to know I have you over at Vitex.”

“I told her she’d be great,” the Doctor volunteers.

“You will be, Rose,” Jackie assures her. “How hard could it be?”

Rose can’t quite seem to answer this satisfactorily enough. How can she explain that the mere notion of the Vitex board terrifies her? They’d laugh themselves silly.

“Yeah,” she says instead. “It’ll be okay.”

“Someday I may need you and Tony to run things more closely,” Pete continues. “Think of it as early training.”

If this is meant to reassure Rose it has the opposite effect. “Me work at Vitex?” she says in alarm. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m just planning ahead, Rose. For anything that might happen. For now I just need you at board meetings.”

Rose swallows her objections. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Make sure you find a house with a nice garden,” Jackie says. “Children need lots of room to run around.”

Rose whips her head up to look at her mother. “What did you say?”

Jackie only smiles at her. Rose feels a headache coming on.


	7. I will walk on water and you will catch me if I fall

Rose used to have a lovely morning ritual. Wake up with the Doctor, have breakfast. Get ready for work. A small slice of time where they focused solely on each other. Taking care of the TARDIS was a small interruption in that routine, and she really didn’t mind it.  
But now things have changed. She has been replaced by a sheet of newsprint, and it’s hard not to be annoyed.  
_“Watch where you walk today. Danger may be behind every corner, beneath every stairwell. Mars is ascending. Don’t forget to drink plenty of water.”_ The Doctor frowns as he contemplates today’s predictions.  
“I’m canceling our subscription,” Rose threatens him.

“This is vastly interesting. I wonder if Mars really is ascending. I’m not sure that’s possible. And this part about water means...something.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Interesting.”

“Stupid.”

He rattles the newspaper shut, eyeing her.

“You know,” she says pleasantly, “I don’t mind all the journals and _People_ and even the cooking magazines that you read but never use to cook a meal. But I really think you’re obsessing over this horoscope thing.”

“It’s a human thing, Rose. Humans like to read them. I’m a student of human _nature.”_

“You’re becoming very annoying is what you are. And I don’t remember you acting quite like this before, so you have to stop.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says politely. “Shall I start looking for a breach so I can return to the other universe? I’ll just send him on through for you, shall I? Oh, that’s right,” he continues before she can close the mouth that’s opened in astonishment, “he won’t be there because he left you here with me and ran away.”

Rose has to work to fill her lungs with air. “What the hell are you going on about?” she demands in a voice that’s barely audible.

“You’re not happy about my reading preferences,” he snaps. “Clearly the fact that I’ve changed is detestable.”

“I said nothing of the sort! I just said that horoscopes aren’t real! You may as well go to a psychic and ask what’s going to happen to you this week!”

“No, that’s not what you said!” he snaps, all angry and Oncoming Storm now. “You said you don’t remember me being like this _before_. Which means you are keeping track of what I was like _before_ and what I am _now_ and you don’t like it now.”

There are tears of astonishment in her eyes, and he curses himself for putting them there. But her words have made him admit something to himself that he hasn’t been able to think about before now. Maybe she really does want the other one back.

“He’s not coming back, Rose. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. If you want me to go then I can, but he will never come back.”

“I don’t want him back!” she says angrily, standing up and throwing her spoon at him. “But you can go away whenever you damn well please.”

 

It is not Jake’s lucky day. A mishap the day before in the parking garage has left him with a twisted ankle and desk duty. It’s galling for him to have to sit by and watch the other field teams do their jobs. He’s saved the world from Cybermen. In a van! He should not be sitting back with a bandage on his ankle.

Torchwood’s medical team had other ideas, though, so here he sits. It would be almost bearable, given the coffee and doughnuts that people have been bringing him, if not for the odd development this morning has brought.

Rose stalks into the office and flings her bag down on her desk. She’s frowning and mad, and Jake would have to be an idiot to approach that.

“Good morning,” he says, eyes trained firmly on his computer.

She doesn’t answer, only huffs in disgust and checks her email.

“Sea monsters down by the river,” Jake offers an hour later. Rose is still seated at her desk, eyes sending out sparks. He’s surprised her computer hasn’t fried itself.

She doesn’t respond, so he keeps going. “Probably just a big fish or something, but someone called in a mermaid sighting, so Simon and Ian went to check it out.”

Rose makes a sound of disgust.

“My guess is that it’s some kind of mutant fish. You know, too many chemicals or something.”

Rose speaks for the first time that morning. “Probably some kind of half-fish, half-alien that doesn’t know what to do and should be shot.”

Jake blinks. “Shot?” he repeats. “The fish?”

“Not the fish!” Rose snaps. “The bloody half-human alien!”

“We’re not having the same conversation, are we?” Jake asks after a pause.

Rose slams a desk drawer and stands up. “Right,” she says through gritted teeth, and is heading for the office door when it opens. She almost slams into the Doctor but catches herself at the last minute.

“There’s a dead security guard at a factory in Chelsea,” he says, eyes giving nothing away. “Violent attack, strange sights and sounds. Let’s go.” He turns around, leaving Rose standing there.

She looks even angrier than before, but Jake does not bring this up. “You’ll want your coat,” he says instead. “It’s cold out this morning.”

“I won’t be needing my coat,” she says clearly, and goes back to her desk.

The Doctor loads the jeep, starts it up, and waits. And waits. And waits some more. Checking his watch, he gives Rose five more minutes. And then five more.

“Bloody hell,” he swears under his breath, looking around the parking lot. No sign of Rose. He activates his headset so hard he gives himself a headache. “Control,” he says through clenched teeth. “Where is Rose Tyler?”

“We don’t show her headset tracker,” the disembodied voice says in his ear. 

“We have an assignment.”

“She’s still logged into her workstation.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says impatiently. “Can you-”

“Activity on her workstation, Doctor Smith. She’s in her office.”

He swears again. “Control, I’m heading out.”

“Not if you’re alone. Let me call another agent and-”

“Smith out,” he interrupts, and turns off his headset. He’s saved the worlds - worlds - alone how many times? He doesn’t need help on this one. He certainly doesn’t need Rose Tyler.

He fumes all the way to the factory. He’d been having a bit of fun in the mornings with the horoscopes. He knows perfectly well that there’s no such thing as fortune tellers. He also knows perfectly well that Rose isn’t impressed with his habit. She tolerates it, perhaps a bit less than his stuffed animal problem, but he knows that she’s been tossing the toys almost as soon as he brings them home.

It isn’t about the horoscopes. This morning she compared him to himself, which isn’t always the easiest complaint to understand but it’s perfectly clear to him. She doesn’t want him to act the way he’s been acting - she wants him the way he was before.

He’s not the same man as before. It’s physically impossible, for one thing. He’s human now, with one heart and everything. His personality is fixed, and while he’s pretty close to the same as before, there are parts that they’re both still getting used to.

Only Rose doesn’t want to get used to it. She wants him back. The Time Lord. Clearly the chance to spend their lives together was just a novelty.

The street is cordoned off, Torchwood personnel in black field gear guarding each side. He pulls up and through, flashing his ID card through the window. They let him pass. Good or bad, he is known throughout the organization as either as the alien or as Rose Tyler’s boyfriend. He objects to the term but prefers it over boy toy, which he knows has been thrown around once or twice in his absence. The newspapers and tabloids aren’t always as tasteful as that, unfortunately.

He pulls up to the factory, only marginally disgusted to find that it’s one of those deserted places in the middle of nowhere. Typical. 

He clicks his headset on. “Control, I’m at the factory. No signs of damage or violence. Where is everyone?”

“We took the dead man away and advised the owners to empty out for the day.”

“So no one is here?”

“They shouldn’t be.” 

“I’m going in.”

“You’re alone, aren’t you? Don’t you dar-”

He turns it off again. If the Control room doesn’t know by now that he’s not going to listen, there’s no hope for them.

The door isn’t locked. He enters through a side entrance. It’s dark and cold and something, a window or door, is open because it’s windy inside. Something knocks over in the distance, and he reaches into his pocket out of sheer habit.

No sonic screwdriver. No weapon, either. He’s forgotten it. The Doctor holds a furious inner debate with himself about whether to return to the jeep to get it. He doesn’t care for it, doesn’t like carrying it and hasn’t used a weapon since Rose was being threatened a few months back.

He’s here alone, though, and he’s human. He needs to be armed to remain alive long enough to make Rose explain herself. Decision made, he steps back to the door and would have kept going except for the cry.

A shrill, angry cry coming from the depths of the factory. Weapon forgotten, he moves quickly toward the sound.

 

Rose sits perfectly still at her desk, avoiding Jake and the ringing phone and her ringing mobile phone. She’s not sure what happened this morning. One moment the Doctor was prattling on about horoscopes - a past time she admits is harmless - and the next they’re arguing about the Doctor. The other Doctor. She’s not been comparing the two - why would she? The one she has now is superior in every way. He’s human and he’s hers. Why would she ever think she wanted anything else?

In a flash of insight she sees the problem. A careless word on her part opened up some insecurities she didn’t think he had. What she meant about his actions before, he took to mean she missed. He’s still second-guessing himself, still waiting for her to tell him to go.

And she’s been waiting for him to leave. She’s a right idiot, isn’t she? Instead of plotting to hold onto him, she’s all but asked him to take off.

Rose sighs and rubs her eyes with her fingers. When did this get so complicated? They were just talking about how happy they were and making plans for buying a house and living a proper life.

She comes to a decision and stands up. Turning to Jake, she’s about to tell him that she’s leaving when Simon comes into the office. He’s wet and dirty, and it’s a sign of their profession that Rose and Jake don’t react to the sight except to note the water he’s dripping onto the floor.

“Control just flagged me,” Simon tells them, staying in the hallway so he doesn’t get their floor wet. “The Doctor is in Chelsea but is out of reach.”

“Out of reach?” Rose asks sharply.

“Headset’s off.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jake says slowly, cursing his ankle.

“We think it might be of alien origin,” Simon says back.

Rose has already started gathering her things. “Call for a car for me,” she says, hastily unlocking her gun from the bottom drawer of her desk. “I’m going.”

“Rose,” Jake begins.

She’s out the door before he can continue. Simon follows her down the hallway.

“Rose, you can’t just go blindly into this. Wait for us and we’ll go.”

She whirls around to face him. “I let him go off alone because I was mad at him, Simon. I need to be there.”

“Wait for me, then!”

“I’ll meet you there,” she calls, and is running down the hallway. 

 

The factory is empty and dark. Why are they always empty and dark? Rose wonders to herself in annoyance. Parking the car, she gets out slowly. No signs of any animals, no signs of any people. The front door is locked. Walking around to the side, she finds the door ajar and slowly eases it open. Pausing to listen, she doesn’t hear anything. She takes a few steps forward. The door closes behind her and she winces at the noise it makes. She reaches in her pocket for her weapon, hoping she won’t need it today.

“I’m here,” she whispers into her headset. “Do you have the Doctor?”

“No,” Control answers. “No signal.”

“Doctor,” she whispers, “can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he says from behind her. 

Rose spins on her heel, gun coming up. It’s the Doctor standing there, headset on but clearly turned off. His arms fly into the air, the gun almost knocked from his hand.

“It’s you!”

He stares at her. “Of course it’s me,” he says incredulously. “Who else would it be?”

She swallows hard, standing there in the cold dark hallway, looking up at him. She lowers her weapon abruptly and reaches for him, pulling his head down to hers and kissing him hard.

His arms go around her and he’s kissing her back, with the kind of desperation she hasn’t felt from him in a long time.

A distant crash finally brings them back to their senses, and they pull apart, slightly dazed.

“Hello,” he says. “What was that for?”

Rose feels foolish, but she’s braver than this. “I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to say that I want you back the way you used to be. I don’t. I want you, just as you are.”

“You didn’t say it. I made myself think that,” he admits. “It’s hard sometimes, Rose, waiting for what happens next.”

“What happens next? Why is that hard?”

“I don’t know when - if - it’s possible that you may change your mind about us.”

“Are you forgetting how hard I worked to get to you?”

“Your single-minded devotion was very touching,” he agrees, “but that was all for another man, wasn’t it? Not me.”

“It was you,” she disagrees. “Just you.” That’s part of her anger, that she chose this man over the other Doctor. Anger at herself, for doing so, for being selfish enough to take what was offered because she knew it would be her only chance to have a proper forever with him. Rose finally accepts this. Her guilt over her choice has been tearing at her without her even realizing it.

“You’re better than my dreams. We have a life together. We’re starting to build something wonderful here, aren’t we?” She can’t keep the anxiety out of her voice. “Or are you ready to go and see the world before it’s too late?”

“I’ve seen the world, Rose Tyler. I’ve seen many worlds. I’ve seen it with you and without you, and I’ve been with you and without you. I know which I prefer.”

“The TARDIS...”

“The TARDIS is growing, and someday maybe we can take it for a ride. But I have you, and it’s you I want.”

“I don’t mean to be stupid. But sometimes I can’t help thinking that you don’t want to be here, that you’re gonna go.”

“Rose, if I ever want to go, rest assured that I will be taking you along with me.”

“Well. Good.” She clears her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I love you, Rose.”

“I love you,” she says back, earnest and trying not to cry. “We can-”

“What in blazes are the two of you doing?” Simon demands from behind them. “There’s something loose in here and you two are having a lover’s spat?” He sounds absolutely horrified.

“We were making up, actually,” Rose says repressively.

He moves beyond them. “You two are so annoying. I’m going left down here. You go right.” He shakes his head as he starts to walk into the factory. Riley and Ian are standing behind him, both armed to the teeth and wearing looks of astonishment.

“If your father knew what you got up to, he’d sack you,” Ian tells Rose sternly before following Simon.

“What is wrong with you?” Riley hisses at them. “I’m about to chase down who-knows-what and you two are snogging!” She stalks down the hallway after Simon and Ian, shaking her head.

Rose and the Doctor exchange a look. “I thought you were getting bored with this,” she admits.

There’s a mad sparkle in his eyes that mirrors the excitement in hers. “Bored of this? Oh, no.”

They both have mad grins on their faces. 

“Let’s go,” she says, and grabs his hand.

The factory is absolutely dark. 

“Where is everyone?” Rose murmurs, verbalizing the Doctor’s thoughts. “Where’s an alien fit in here?”

“I don’t think it’s an alien,” Simon says into the headset. “We’ve got a trail of grey slime here.”

“Oh, gross.”

“Is it dark grey or light grey?” the Doctor demands.

“Light grey.”

“Is it foamy and sort of frothy or is it more lifeless?”

“How the hell should I know that?” Simon asks.

“I’d say foamy,” Ian’s voice says. “More foamy than frothy.”

“What sort of odor-” the Doctor starts, but Simon cuts him off. 

“If you want to smell it, be my guest. We are not going to smell it. Or taste it! There’s a trail of the stuff leading down to the back here. We’ll check it out.”

“Be careful.”

“No animal leaves a trail of slime like that,” Rose says. “Unless it’s some sort of giant mutant snail.”

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” Riley whispers into their ears. 

“It attacked someone and left them for dead,” the Doctor muses out loud, slowly walking down the hallway with Rose. “Was it attacking or defending? Was it looking for food or a way out?”

“A way out? Of this place?” Rose looks around with sharper eyes. “What is this place?”

“They make birthday candles.”

“Candles?”

“For birthday cakes,” Ian whispers into their headsets. “Little waxy things you stick onto cakes. All kinds of colors. Some of them relight after you blow them out.”

“I hate those trick candles,” Simon mutters. “There’s an open door over here. I’m checking it out.”

“Another down the way,” Riley says.

“I’ll wait right here in the open,” Ian says.

“What could this thing be?” Rose asks the Doctor. 

“I don’t know yet.” He indicates a hallway. “I’m going to go down here. I see something wet on the floor - it might be more slime.” 

Rose glances around. “I’ll go down the other end. That crashing we heard had to come from somewhere.”

She walks down the hallway, moving slowly and carefully. The only light is coming from a few grimy windows set along the top third of the walls. Rose can’t think of a less inviting place to have to work in. As she moves down the hallway drafts of air hit her from an unseen source. She can make out shadowy shapes here and there that she assumes are machines for making those birthday candles. 

She’s passed by five small rooms in a row. Digging out her torch, she shines it inside one of them. A desk and chair, a computer station and a coatrack. She must be in the office section. She swings the torch around to get a better look at her surroundings. Holding it high to see in front of her, she peers down the long hallway. How big is this factory, anyway? she asks herself in annoyance.

Something falls not too far away and she turns toward the sound. “Was that one of you?” she whispers.

Negatives all around. Holding up the torch again, she starts to walk. By this point she’s not really expecting to find anything, but the adrenaline is still rushing through her, and her heart is pumping madly. All she needs is the Doctor’s hand to hold as they rush through this madcap adventure. Her train of thought comes to an end as the light bounces off something shiny up ahead.

“I see something,” she murmurs.

“Be careful,” several voices respond at once.

Rose steps forward. The puddle of slime is about a meter across. Light grey, definitely foamy. “Oh, yuck.”

“What do you have, Rose?”

“Foam, Doctor. Slimy grey foam.”

“Did it leave a trail?”

A trail? Looking around, Rose does indeed spot a trail. “Yeah. It’s going down the hallway here.”

“We’ll be right there,” Simon and the Doctor say in unison. “Don’t move.”

Rose lowers her torch and starts to follow the trail.


	8. Remember how it all began /All you had to do was hold my hand/ And we’ve been running all this time it seems

Rose moves down the hallway. The slimy, frothy foam is glistening. She hopes that it’s just a trail of snails or something equally harmless, but she knows it won’t be that easy.

Something moves up ahead. She swallows hard. “I see it,” she whispers. “It’s about ten meters ahead. This place is huge.”

“I thought I told you not to move until I got there.” The Doctor is seriously annoyed.

“I’m okay.”

“I’m reporting you when we get back,” Simon informs her. “And I expect John to write you up.”

There is silence at this. Rose is ignoring him as she heads to the source of the slime, and the Doctor is too busy to notice his assumed name.

“John? Are you there?” Simon waits, then rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Doctor? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here. What are you rambling on about, Simon? We’re on a mission here.”

“You two are impossible. We ought to leave you here alone.”

“No,” Riley says instantly. “The paperwork would be horrible if something happened. There’s nothing at the south exit of the building.”

“And we’d have to tell Mrs. Tyler,” Ian adds. “I’m not brave enough for that. Eastern exit is clear. No signs of life.”

“Rose, wait for us,” the Doctor orders her.

“Something is moving up here. If I wait it may disappear.”

“If you go ahead it might eat you,” Simon counters.

“I’m coming, Rose,” the Doctor says. “I’m right behind you.” Despite the danger and his annoyance with his beloved, his heart is racing. This is why he stays at Torchwood, this is why he hasn’t gone to work at a university. The thrill of discovery, of meeting new life forms and facing danger each day, well, it’s certainly been fun so far. And he gets to do it with Rose. 

“Hurry up,” his beloved says. “It’s on the move.”

The Doctor gets to her in very little time, remarkable when you consider the distance between them in the factory. Rose watches him approach, most of her attention still up ahead.

“This place is enormous, isn’t he?” he asks her. “Where is it?”

Rose points. His gaze falls on the trail of slime and he kneels down to examine it more closely. “Light grey,” he agrees to himself. “Definitely foamy. Slight frothiness.” He sits back on his heels and frowns.

“You have that look on your face,” Rose says in a sing-song voice.

He looks up at her, still frowning. “What look?” 

“The look that says you’re thinking hard about something but you’re not going to share it right now.”

“I have nothing to share,” he admits, coming to his feet. “I don’t know what this is.” He is incredibly frustrated. “Parallel world, but so many of these aliens are unfamiliar.”

“Not everything will be the same.”

“No, but is it asking too much for a few similarities?” He starts to walk toward the movement, which has been getting farther away. “Now we’ve got to deal with some kind of giant snail.”

“Something outside,” Riley says sharply. “We’re going.”

“Wait!” Simon orders her. “I’m coming.”

“South wall,” Ian says shortly. “Rose, Doctor, you’re on your own.”

“Great,” Rose whispers.

“We know you’re there!” the Doctor calls out. “We see your trail of...er, stuff. We don’t want to hurt you.”

There is silence. He waits patiently but gets no response.

“Are you still there?”

“Right, like it’s gonna answer you.” Rose moves past him.

“Rose, wait.”

“Come on!”

They head to the end of the hallway and hit a wall. Looking all around the floor, Rose spies a small patch of wetness. “There!”

They follow it down another hallway. This one has no windows. Rose lifts her torch and the Doctor knocks it back down again.

“Wait,” he whispers. “Something’s there.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know. I just do.” And that’s all he knows. Something is there and he can sense it. 

“Come on out,” Rose calls. “This is Torchwood. We have the building surrounded.”

“You don’t want to threaten it,” the Doctor complains, getting ready to be attacked.

“Something killed that guard.” Rose is tired of playing hide and seek. She starts to walk purposefully down the hallway. She finds it in one of the empty offices lining the hallway.

“Stop right there.” She raises her weapon and torch and takes aim.

The Doctor comes up behind her and takes the torch. “Who are you?”

Rose makes a sound of revulsion as the light hits the creature they’ve found. “ _What_ are you?”

The creature resembles an overgrown lizard. It is grey and slimy and leaving a trail of wet foamy stuff in its wake as it moves. 

“I don’t think it’s capable of speech.” The Doctor peers down at it, starts to kneel on the floor. 

Rose grabs his arm. “Don’t touch it!”

“Oh, it’s perfectly safe,” a voice says from the corner, and they both spin around.

It’s a man standing there, dressed in a uniform and regarding them with an alarmingly calm expression on his face.

“Who are you?” Rose demands.

“I own this factory.”

“And this creature?”

“It’s mine.”

“Where did you get it?” the Doctor asks. “It’s not from Earth.”

The man looks faintly surprised. “No, it’s not. I don’t know what it is. I call it Henry.”

“Henry,” Rose and the Doctor repeat together.

“Found him in the garden, twenty years back now.”

Rose looks back at the lizard. “Where did it come from?”

“I don’t know.” The man shrugs and holds out his hand. Instantly the Doctor brings up the weapon he’d sworn never to use again. The man keeps his hands in the air.

“My name’s Potter,” he says. “I make birthday candles. I don’t know where he came from, honest. I keep him around because he's good for business.”

“What?”

“That slimy stuff that he leaves behind. It makes the best wax candles I’ve ever seen.”

“You make birthday candles out of it?”

“They work great.”

“Candles that go into cakes?” Rose is repulsed by the notion and can’t help thinking about Tony’s birthday, just the other week.

“They’re easy to make, they burn clean and they’re much cheaper. I don’t have to pay for Henry, just feed him now and then.”

“What did you feed him?” the Doctor asks. “Because you’re short a security guard.”

Potter looks sad. “I know. I’m sorry about that. But none of my employees knew about Henry here. I made up the solution for candles at night, and they made the candles during the day,”

“So, what?” Rose asks. “Henry here went crazy and attacked your guard?”

“Oh, no,” Potter says. “Henry is as calm as a cat. The guard discovered us here. I couldn’t let him leave. He was yelling about Torchwood and aliens and invasions. He couldn’t have left.”

“You...you killed him?” Rose asks, just to be clear.

“I had to. He was going to take Henry away. I’m very attached to Henry.”

Rose and Doctor look back at Henry. A less prepossessing creature would be hard to find.

“Control,” the Doctor says into his headset. “Send the other teams in. And we’ll need a containment unit.”

 

“That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard,” Ian says. “Guy was making candles from alien ooze?”

“They’re supposedly the best candles in Great Britain,” Rose tells him.

“Disgusting. And he committed murder because he didn’t want to lose his alien pet?”

“Sad, really,” the Doctor muses.

“Disgusting,” Ian says for a third time

They’ve checked the entire factory, now awash in light. Henry was indeed the only alien creature in residence, and he’s been taken back to the Torchwood labs for identification.

“Everything’s clean,” Simon reports. “We’re heading back now.”

“And the creature?” Rose asks. It’s not poor Henry’s fault he was being used as a wax replacement for so long.

“We’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of it like find it a home? Or like really take care of it?”

“We’re not going to kill it, Rose. Honestly.”

“Are you sure?” she presses.

Simon points behind him. “Ask them.”

The live containment unit has arrived. They’re hauling Henry away on a special anti-gravity platform developed through alien technology.

“Steve, where you taking him?” Rose asks the man in front.

“Back to the lab. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Rose, we’re going to study it, see if we can determine where it came from. We’re not dissecting anything. At least not today.”

Steve and his companion laugh odd little laughs. 

“Your brand of humor needs improvement,” the Doctor tells them.

“Yes, sir,” Steve says. He’s still smirking a little. “We won’t hurt him, Rose.”

Rose has to be satisfied with that for now. She’ll find her dad and make sure Henry is safe later. She sighs and watches Henry disappear.

“He’ll be fine,” the Doctor assures her. “For all we know he could be the head of state for some wet, slimy, foamy-frothy planet. Wouldn’t do to kill the monarch.”

“Whatever,” Simon says. “Either way, I’m never touching a candle again.”

“It’s an odd custom anyway,” the Doctor agrees. “You’re the only people who top a confection with a burning stick and expect the recipient to blow it out in order to make wishes come true.”

“It’s symbolic,” Rose says. They’ve had this conversation before.

“Yes, but then whoever has to share said confection runs the risk of germs and other things landing on the cake after the candles are blown out.” He’s being very reasonable about that, really.

“Well, that’s how we silly humans do things here.” Simon glances around. “We’re done. I’ll see you back home, then.” He heads for the exit, eager to be out of there.

“Bye.” Rose can’t help sounding a bit forlorn.

“Are you still worried about that creature? We’ll find out where it’s from and get it home somehow. Someday.”

Rose doesn’t get a chance to answer. From the depths of the factory comes an absolutely blood-chilling scream. She and the Doctor freeze, then look at one another.

“Ha!” He laughs and grabs her hand. “Let’s go!”

 

It’s a long time before they get home. Once they’re in the flat Rose goes directly to the bathroom and takes a long, long hot shower. The smell of the factory seems to have gotten into her hair. When she steps out to dry off the Doctor is there.

“I’ve got frothy foam all over my shoes,” he says sounding aggrieved.

Rose accepts the towel he hands her and watches as he strips off his clothes. “I thought it was foamy froth?”

“Whatever. It was on my hands and then I touched my _hair_.” He steps into the shower and angrily twists the faucets.

“Those candles were supposed to be very safe,” she says soothingly, wrapping herself up in the towel.

“Once they were processed or whatever it was he did to it all. Who knows what the raw by-product of Henry slime is? Maybe it makes your hair fall out.”

“Maybe it will just give you a waxy build-up.” Rose can’t help but giggle at her own joke. The Doctor jerks the shower curtain back to glare at her. She sobers. “Sorry,” she says, trying to sound sorry.

He twitches the shower curtain back into place and washes his hair a second time. “And then to find Henry’s offspring lying in wait for us!” he says savagely. “Henry’s harmless as a cat! Please.”

“He was harmless.”

“Those other creatures were not harmless, Rose. One of them killed the security guard, and Potter was going to let us leave them there for someone to find in the morning.”

“Well, they were younger than Henry. And they didn’t have a mother. Maybe having just one parent makes that species angry.” It’s a weak argument, but Rose has little else to go on. The creature they know as Henry was docile, if a bit slimy. The four other, younger Henrys, caged up in a back room, were the bearers of dryer, darker skin and fiercely sharp teeth. Henry had been breeding offspring on his own for a while, and Potter was making plans to expand production when his little alien secrets were found out.

“Murderous creatures, idiot human-” The Doctor breaks off and coughs as he gets shampoo in his mouth. “Ahhh!”

“You all right?”

“I just swallowed flower-scented soap suds.” He sounds appalled.

“That can’t be very tasty. You should have tried my coconut stuff.”

He rinses his mouth out with water from the showerhead and peers around the tub. “We have coconut stuff?”

By the time he comes out of the bathroom Rose is dry and dressed in a tank top and those stretchy black pants that he’s so fond of, the ones he calls sweats and she calls yoga pants. She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for him.

“This is a hard universe,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“We don’t know what’s out there. You don’t know what’s out there.” Rose is troubled by this. “It’s like we’re sitting here on Earth in this little bubble, and we’re waiting for the next thing to come through the atmosphere.”

He hastily dries off and puts on some jeans and a shirt. Sitting beside her, he smoothes her hair back behind her ear. “Is that what’s bothering you?” he asks quietly.

“I’ve seen what’s out there. The Dimension Cannon let me hop around, yeah? But this particular universe - I didn’t see very much of it. I was too busy trying to reach you. The darkness is gone and Davros is dead-” she pauses a minute as he shifts nervously - “but something else might be waiting.”

He doesn’t bring up his suspicions that Davros isn’t really dead after all. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he’ll let the other him deal with that if and when the time comes.

“If something comes, we’ll be waiting. That’s our job.” She doesn’t answer and he gets concerned. Rose is in a mood he’s not familiar with. “Rose?”

“Birthday candles. Made of alien goo. We just watched Tony blow out his candles!”

“Well, maybe they weren’t this brand of candles. Seems like your mum would go for something fancy.”

“I don’t know why I’m so upset. It’s like this place has suddenly gotten all strange.”

“‘Suddenly’? It’s been strange for a good long while, Rose Tyler.” He leans forward and kisses her, trying to break her out of this mood. “You’re sad. Let me fix it.”

“Fix it? How?”

He kisses her again, reaching beneath her top to caress her bare skin.

It works. She kisses him back, lets him ease her onto the bed. Lets them both pretend, for a little while, that their life is a normal life. 

 

“It worked, didn’t it?” He sounds pretty pleased with himself.

Rose rolls over and regards him by the light of the bathroom. “You’re missing my point.”

“No, I’m not. You were all sad and melancholy and I made you feel better. You’re welcome.” He’s definitely sounding smug about it.

She hits him on the shoulder. “Sex is not the answer to everything.”

“Sometimes it is,” he says seriously. “Should we try it again?” 

“Doctor, you’re not listening to me.”

“Oh, I’m listening very well. You needed me.”

The truth is that she did, and Rose is rather annoyed with herself. They’ve reached an odd stage in their relationship, where it’s not brand new to him anymore, but he can still surprise her with the depth of his response to her. As for herself, well, she loves him, more and more each day, and it’s scary sometimes to put her heart entirely in his hands.

“Where else would your heart belong but with me?” he asks her when she admits this to him. “You have mine. You always have.”

“We go from acting like a teenage couple snogging in my parent’s kitchen to sharing a flat,” she begins.

“Yes. And?”

“And...nothing.” Rose drops the subject. For now, anyway. “Nothing at all.” She reaches over and kisses him. “I love you.” Resting her chin on his chest, she traces his features with her fingertips. “I wanted to do this for so long, back when we were traveling.”

He captures her fingers. “I wish you would have.”

“Maybe things would have been different?”

“No. I don’t think we could have changed what happened, any of it. But it brought us here, so it was good.”

“I changed things,” she disagrees. “I found Donna and made her change things so you lived. And then other things happened because I came back to you.”

“If you hadn’t the universe we knew would have been destroyed by Davros,” he says, very steadily. “I wouldn’t exist and this universe would have been destroyed as well. Everything in its own time, Rose Tyler.”

“Everything?”

There’s a question in her voice, something hopeful that he doesn’t quite understand. “Yes,” he says firmly. “Everything.”

She smiles and kisses him. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks, but she only kisses him again.

They’re kept from doing more by the ringing telephone. 

“Leave it,” he says. “It’s your mother.”

“This is Sally Marshall!” a cheerful voice says from the machine, and they both jump and break apart. Rose dives under the covers as though the woman is in the same room with them and immediately feels foolish.

The Doctor reaches for the phone. “Hello, Sally. Yes. Good, thanks. And you? Oh, that’s nice. Really? No, that’s fine for us. We’ll see you then. Thanks.” He hangs up and grins at Rose.

“Sally has some houses to show us tomorrow. Should be fun!”


	9. But if you find yourself standing on the corner /While you´re thinking of a different world /Then you might see me waiting on the corner

“Okay,” he says, switching on the bedside lamp and crawling into bed next to her, “here’s what we need to decide.”

Rose turns off the lamp and rolls over to face him. “What are you doing?”

“Going over our housing requirements.”

“What time is it?”

“One fifty-three,” he says promptly.

“In the _morning_?”

“Yeah.”

Rose groans and hides under the covers. “Go away.”

“It’s almost time to get up,” he says reasonably. 

“It is most definitely not time to get up. Have you gone to bed yet?”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding surprised. “I fell asleep when you did, remember?”

Rose doesn’t really remember, because the previous night was kind of a blur once they got home from that alien birthday candle factory warehouse. She yawns.

“Why are you up so soon?”

It’s not really soon, not for him. He doesn’t sleep as much and there are nights he doesn’t sleep at all. He suddenly feels guilty for waking Rose out of a sound sleep to ask her about carpeting options. Leaning over, he kisses her cheek.

“Go to sleep,” he tells her.

“What about you?” she mumbles, already more than half-asleep.

“Oh, I’ll be fine, Rose Tyler.” He watches her sleep for a few minutes, wishing he didn’t have to lie.

 

Sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat, with no memory of what woke him up. Single heart racing, blurred images crowding his mind. _Daleks the Time War and my family is dead the Master and monsters and aliens and Rose is falling and I can’t catch her._ He bolts up in bed, pressing his hands against his eyes, forcing the images to disappear. 

Beside him Rose sleeps on.

He doesn’t try and remember. There’s simply too much there, in 900 years of life, to remember. The bad outweighs the good. So many visions and thoughts and people he should have saved but couldn’t. Friends leaving him, Susan-

But he shies away from that one, just as he always has. In his mind she is still alive, always alive, always living with her family and friends and safe and happy. That’s the only way he can live with himself, to convince his brain that Susan is safe.

And she is! He reminds himself sternly. The Time War didn’t touch her. She is safe. Somewhere, in that other universe, in the time that is now hers, she is safe.

Someday he will tell Rose about Susan, and then it will be all right. He knew, almost immediately, that Rose Tyler could make just about anything all right.

She made him all right, didn’t she? More than once, too. She made him all right and she made him better, and she’s made him who he is at this moment. Who he’ll be from now on.

Above everything else, though, above it all, is the absence of sound. The hum of the TARDIS was the sound of home and now it’s gone.

No. Not gone. Still there. Just...not here with him. Which is almost worse than being gone for good. Once again, he ponders the great joke the universe has played on him. Stranded here.

Oh, but he has Rose. The universe did one kind thing for him in the end. He has Rose. Sometimes it’s necessary to remind himself of that.

Gently easing himself off the bed, trying not to wake Rose, he closes the bedroom door and steps into the kitchen. He focuses on some small tasks at the sink, trying to drown out the words that persist in running through his head. How long does he have Rose for?

The words will not be banished, and he grabs his coat and quietly lets himself out of the flat. London is cold and dark tonight, with very few people on the streets. Here and there a couple stumbles into a building, clearly having had a rough night at the pub. He shakes his head at them. Silly little humans, going on each day, never knowing the dangers all around them.

How can you not like them?

Tilting his head back, he tracks his gaze to the stars overhead. They’re not the ones he flew among for so long, but they’ve become familiar to him. He looks up at them a lot, some nights after Rose is sleeping.

Only sometimes will the sensation of suffocating hit him. The feeling that the sky, with all those stars and constellations, will fall down on him. The feeling of being trapped, of not having a choice, of being torn from everything he’s ever known and cared out. Not a new feeling, certainly, but one that he doesn’t feel too often anymore.

When he first came here he tried so hard to accept his life now, to accept the simple humanity that was given him. He wanted to yell and scream and rage at the unfairness of it, and he did. He did, so many times and in so many ways. It’s a wonder Rose stuck by him, but she did. She had her own issues to deal with, but she stayed with him despite that. He’s not the only one the other Doctor left behind. He’s not the only one who’s lost something.

He’ll look at his right hand and try to understand it, and he just can’t. The only choice is to just accept it. He’ll go mad otherwise, and he knows madness is not what he is meant to do here.

And still...he scans the sky sometimes, looking for a blue box. On street corners, he’ll stare extra hard at phone booths, trying to overcome perception filters that aren’t there.

What if a breach did open up? What if he came back?

Same face, different face - would it matter to Rose? Would she leave without a backwards glance?

Such insecurities don’t make for the most stable of relationships.

It’s so hard, this being human nonsense, all paperwork and fill out your name and date of birth, and live in a house and go to a job every day and wait for your death.

Hard enough without wondering if the woman you love loves you back. Loves you back enough to stay with you.

If he hadn’t left them on that beach - what would have happened?

He knows, in his heart, that the other one won’t return. The other him would never try it, he knows. Wasn’t that him once? Never try to go against the laws of the universe. Laws are there for a reason. You don’t go against them.

But now...he’s not the man he once was, is he? Donna made him better and she never was one to do as the universe said, only because that’s the way things were always done.

Donna demanded more.

He wonders if that part of Donna is there within him. He wants more. He’s just afraid of making the demand and then losing it all anyway.

_Shut up_ , Donna’s voice seems to tell him sternly. It’s so clear and exact that he actually turns around in a circle, looking for her.

_Spaceman, just shut it and listen. She loves you. You love her. That’s all that matters. Now stop being a looby and go tell her you love her._

“She’s asleep,” he protests.

_She won’t mind if you do it right._

“I miss you,” he admits quietly.

_Haven’t gone anywhere, have I?_

“You’re not here.”

_I’m always here, you prawn._

He doesn’t wake Rose up when he gets home, but he does feel better. It will be okay. Clearly he has some kind of vitamin deficiency that makes him susceptible to strange bouts of delusion.

Setting up his laptop at the kitchen table, he grabs a banana, just in case his potassium stores are low.

The computer hums quietly, nowhere near as comforting as the TARDIS but close enough for now. He gets most of his work done here, at the kitchen in the night when Rose is asleep. All of his degrees and articles and research theories have been written and drafted and sent off from this laptop in the kitchen, all in the deepest part of the night when most people are sound asleep. Between his Time Lord mind and all his knowledge of that other universe, and his super-duper new typing skills, he can churn out dense documents in no time.

Rose has mentioned, once or twice, briefly, that he could do anything he wanted. He knows he doesn’t need to stay at Torchwood. So many places would be glad to have him on staff to teach or conduct research.

Maybe someday he’ll do that. It doesn’t appeal so much right now. He’s seen the universe out there. He knows what dangers lie in wait, and he is the only one who does truly know what’s out there. He is the best person to keep Earth and his family safe, and he will do it until it is safe out there.

He makes a few quick notes on the baby TARDIS, noting its growth. Very slow but on schedule. Very nice.

Some nights he relaxes and reads, or watches something on the television. Once in a while he will explore this world’s version of the Internet, looking for improbable events.

Tonight, though, he has other plans. Pulling up schematics for his other project, he settles down to get a few hours’ work in.

He takes Donna’s advice right before the alarm goes off that morning. Well, possibly it was Donna’s advice. More likely it was just him, trying to make himself think it was Donna. For whatever reason he would want to make himself think it was Donna.

Anyway. Moving on. He kisses Rose awake, focuses on the smooth spot between her neck and her shoulder.

“Hi,” she says with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning. Are you awake?” he asks hopefully.

“Maybe,” she says, and smiles the slow smile that lets him know exactly what she’s thinking.

“Good.” He kisses her again.

 

He falls back on the bed and hums with pleasure. “Good morning,” he says again.

Rose giggles. “Shut up.”

He flips onto his side. “Good morning.”

“All right.”

“Goood morning,” he continues, and she finally kisses him just to shut him up for good.

“Did you wake me up last night?” she asks him.

He looks around the room. “Last night?”

Rose isn’t fooled by his innocent act. “I could have sworn you did.”

“Well, I just wanted to say goodnight.”

She’s watching him closely. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He smiles at her because he is, in fact, okay. Maybe it was the banana, or hearing what might-be-might-not-be-Donna’s voice, or maybe just sitting in the dark and working, but he feels much better this morning.

Yes, he thinks to himself. Rose Tyler makes everything all right.

Rose gives in and pushes back the covers. “How long have you been up?”

“A bit now.”

She contemplates the ceiling. “Let’s go get breakfast somewhere.”

“Instead of here?”

She smiles at him, that teasing little smile that he can’t resist and can’t say no to. He doesn’t even try.

“Nowhere fancy,” he pleads.

 

 

Their breakfast in the Torchwood cafeteria was interrupted by Riley, who saw them in the window as she was walking by. She’s stopped in to join them for a muffin and orange juice. A few minutes later Ian and Anna walk in. They don’t notice them for a few minutes, but then Ian quickly drags their chairs over to join them.

“Good morning,” he says cheerfully. “Don’t usually see you two out so early.”

“We like to ease into our mornings,” Rose tells him.

Ian nods solemnly. “I can see that.”

“Are you coming to my knitting class tonight, Rose?” Anna asks.

Rose, caught in the middle of putting a forkful of egg into her mouth, stops in mid-motion. Stalling for time, she slowly chews and swallows, glancing at Riley as she does so.

Riley nods her head enthusiastically.

“Uh...I don’t know about tonight,” Rose hedges. 

“You had to leave early last time,” Anna continues, oblivious to Riley’s muffled giggles.

“Yeah, about that...”

“We’re looking at houses tonight,” the Doctor volunteers. “I’ll need Rose along, of course. She knows best about what kind of box with windows would suit us best.”

They look at him, puzzled by his statement.

“You’re looking for a box?” Riley asks. “Like a...cardboard box?”

“No,” Rose says hastily, before they start to think that she plans to live in a box in the park somewhere. “It’s just our little joke. What we call houses.”

Ian doesn’t quite understand. “You refer to houses as boxes?”

“With windows,” the Doctor says. “Our own little joke. You had to be there. Weeell, you didn’t have to be there, I’d advise against it, but I wouldn’t recommend it there even if you could.”

“Anyway, it’s gone now,” Rose says.

“What’s gone? The house that’s a box?” Riley is still trying to follow this through.

“No, the planet that we thought we’d trapped on,” Rose corrects.

“A black hole,” the Doctor says shortly. He still doesn’t like to talk about that impossible planet and the Beast and what Rose had to go through there. “Far away in a different time in a different universe. But we escaped, as you can clearly see.”

“Good as new,” Rose adds. She hates to talk about that with anyone but the Doctor, because no one else understands, and it’s so hard to think about what happened there.

Anna shakes her head. “You’re daft.”

 

Rose walks into Riley’s tiny little office, easing the door shut behind her and sitting down in the chair in front of the desk.

Riley looks up from her computer. “Hello. What’s up?”

Rose checks to make sure the door is fully closed and leans forward. Riley leans forward as well.

“I don’t want to knit,” Rose says quietly and clearly.

Riley nods, all seriousness and sincerity. “All right.”

“It’d be all right if someone else were in charge. But this is Anna. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Rose, we’re talking about yarn and metal needles. I think she’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, but you know.” Rose fidgets in her chair.

“No. What?”

“She’s Ian’s girlfriend. She works with the Doctor. I feel like I have to be nice to her.”

“Rose, you’re nice to everyone. That’s a big character flaw in a Torchwood agent, by the way. If it weren’t for nepotism I don’t know how long you’d last here.”

“Riley, I’m serious.”

“Well, either you tell her no every single time she asks, or you show up and pretend to be having fun.” Riley seems to think this is perfectly reasonable.

“But I’m not having fun! It’s dead boring and it’s torture. And I know torture!” Rose adds. “I’ve been in dungeons on other planets that would make your skin crawl, and I’d rather go back to any of them than do this one more time.”

“Well, you got out of tonight, didn’t you?” Riley reaches in a desk drawer and pulls out a hank of brown yarn and knitting needles. “But look at what I did!”

It’s a long, skinny scarf, done inexpertly and with several gaping holes, but Riley seems pretty proud of it.

“That’s...nice,” Rose manages. After all, it’s more than she was able to manage.

“Thanks. And this was after that one class! If you just keep practicing you’ll get better.”

Rose doesn’t want to either practice or get better, but at least she’s gotten out of this evening’s class.

“Maybe I’ll come to the next one,” she sighs.

“There’s the spirt,” Riley says approvingly. “Look - it’s easy.” She manages to knit one or two bits of yarn before the door start to open. She jams the yarn and needles back in her desk and schools her features to polite curiosity.

“Just me.” Simon pokes his head in the office. “Hey, Riley.”

Riley relaxes. “Hi.” She pulls the yarn back out again.

Simon looks around and sees Rose. “Well, hello. I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have? What’s up?” 

“Got a minute?”

“Yeah, I’m done here.” 

Simon looks back at Riley and blinks. “What the hell is that?” he asks.

Riley holds it up. “A scarf.”

“There’s no way that’s a scarf.”

“Shut it, Simon.”

Rose says goodbye to Riley and walks out of the office with Simon. 

“What’s going on?” she asks him. 

“Nothing much. Just had a meeting with your dad to go over last month’s Kirtuks invasion.”

“The little bitty people who landed in Dublin?”

“The same. All cleared up now, luckily.”

“Where you headed now?” Rose asks.

“Come on.” They walk to his office, just down the hall from Riley’s. “I just want to take this off.” Simon hangs up his suit jacket and removes his tie. Rose sits down and waits for him. It’s an easy feeling, being together with friends again. She and Simon were good friends before she went looking for the Doctor last year. 

“Something’s up,” Rose says quietly. “What is it?”

“Haven’t seen you for a while.” He’s trying a little too hard to be casual.

“Been busy,” she admits.

“The gym?”

“Not lately.” Rose knows he knows this, because they go to the same gym. Or they used to, anyway.

He sighs. “We used to be friends, Rose.”

“We still are.”

“No. Now you’ve got him and everything is happy and fine and I’m left alone at the gym.”

Rose laughs. “We’re still friends.”

“It’s not the same.”

“We see each other all the time. You just had dinner with us.”

“Dinner three weeks ago?” He bursts out laughing. “Rose, I would never call that dinner.”

“What do you mean?” She worked hard on that dinner.

“The chicken exploded in the roasting pan,” he reminds her. “I brought Denise that night. Haven’t seen her since.”

“Well, if I had dressing explode in my hair, I’d be a bit sore,” Rose concedes. “We did apologize.”

“Did you get it all off the ceiling?” he asks with a straight face.

She can’t help it and succumbs to laughter. “He made a small error with the thermometer. He didn’t realize you shouldn’t try to improve a device that you stick into your food so that when it heats it lights up.”

“Well, at least we know what temperature meat thermometers will explode if treated to various alien bits of radiation.”

“It was a good idea, just ahead of its time.”

His mouth twists in a half-grin. “I know, Rose. He’s bloody brilliant and he’s not all human and...and I know how much you love him.”

Rose nods, uncomfortable with this train of conversation. Simon watched her cry and rage and scheme for a long time, after she first came to Torchwood. He watched her friendship with Mickey slowly splinter under the strain of the Doctor’s shadow. Mickey had still loved her but accepted that it was over. Rose could focus on nothing but the Doctor, and that created tension within Torchwood as well. Simon was the one who held the teams together while Rose worked on the Dimension Cannon. Jake helped keep Mickey together as he tried to argue against using it.

Simon was the one in the Control room who helped Rose shift across parallel worlds. He was the one who let Mickey take the dimension jumpers so he and Jackie could go after Rose last year. He knows what Rose had been trying to do for so long.

Simon also knows this isn’t, strictly speaking, the Doctor that Rose and Mickey knew, but he’s close enough for him. He respects him and can see it’s obvious that he loves Rose as much as she loves him. Whatever they have is still mysterious and unknown to Simon, but for them it works.

Rose shrugs. “What can I do? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

He grins. “Not like he’s going to fly away into outer space sometime.”

Rose glances away. “No. Of course not.”

 

“Nothing new on the alien rock,” Anna reports to the Doctor later that morning. They’re in her lab at Torchwood, and she probably won’t be calling him daft during this conversation. Unless he does or says something particularly strange, and then she’ll tell him off.

The Doctor realizes more and more each day how truly extraordinary Rose Tyler is. She took him on the faith from the very start and never stopped believing in him. Most humans aren’t like that, and he knows about humans. Anna likes things to fit in her world and for those things to make sense. Otherwise she gets easily irritated.

The Doctor looks thoughtfully at the chunk of rock. “Let’s try to slice it open. Maybe we can find something inside.”

“Inside the rock?” Anna asks skeptically. “Are you sure about that? We’ve already cut this part off of the bigger piece that’s still in storage.”

He shrugs. “it couldn’t hurt.”

“All right.” Anna packs it in and prepares to go slicing and dicing. “I’ll let you now what I find out.”

“Have one of the other blokes help you, if you need,” he adds on his way out. “I’m going to be tied up today.”

 

Quiet days at Torchwood mean lots of downtime. Taking a break from his project, the Doctor absently turns on the computer to check his company email. Scrolling through the majority - urgent memos from various executives, threats from Accounting regarding expenses, requests to schedule meetings abut past assignments. Nothing urgent there. The Doctor deletes it all.

Hs method of dealing with the bureaucracy that unfortunately comes with the job he loves is to ignore it. The important stuff filters down to him sooner or later. Anything very urgent will come from Pete Tyler himself, or Rose.

As he’s logging off the email system, he has a flash of memory from the night before. He’d been sitting on the couch, eating chocolate biscuits and watching the late night talk shows, when he’d glanced over at the side table. Rose subscribes to an odd selection of magazines. Fashion and beauty, conspiracy journals, magazines clearly intended for middle-aged women in the country who walk around wearing tweed. But the one on top had a hot pink cover which all but screamed at you to pick it up. Having done just that, he ignored the scantily-clad cover girl to focus in on the headline. **HOW CLOSE IS TOO CLOSE? IS TOGETHERNESS KILLING YOUR LOVE?**

He’d snickered and tossed it aside. Now he thinks hard for a moment and slowly, haltingly, types in the magazine’s name and finds its website. Thankfully Torchwood is a government entity and the computer systems are top notch. Nothing is restricted because no one knows where aliens will strike next.

He scrolls down the webpage and finds an intriguing quiz. **RATE YOUR TOGETHER TIME** , it screams in hot pink.

He studies the questions on the web site thoughtfully, pondering each one. He only reads. He does not actually answer them. That would be a step too far. Even now, he’s uneasily uncertain whether he’s controlling his actions and thoughts or if the part of him that came from Donna is in charge.

It would certainly explain why he’s reading women’s magazines. 

Finally he logs off, and Rose walks in just as he’s shutting down the computer.

“Hello,” he greets her.

“Hi. What’s up? What were you doing?”

“Not much,” he says evasively. “What are you doing here?”

She looks surprised. “Came to say hi. Should I go?”

“No, of course not.” He studies her for a moment. “You don’t feel it’s taking a bit from our relationship, do you, this working together?”

“We always spent our time together,” she says, puzzled. “Has something changed?”

“No,” he says quickly, inwardly cursing the web site, its magazine, and all relationship advice. “I love spending time with you.”

“Okay, then.” Rose is confused and considers walking out and back in again and starting this conversation over.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here,” he tells her eagerly. “I’ve something to show you.”

“Yeah?” Rose sits down on his chair. “What is it?”

“Watch, Rose Tyler. Watch and appreciate!”

He pulls out a metal tray and flourishes a long silver tube at her.

She smiles in delight. “You built a sonic screwdriver!”

“Can you believe it?” he asks her happily, and somewhat rhetorically. “Finally managed it, even with the shoddy materials I was able to find here.”

“Lovely,” she says with real appreciation, knowing that he’s been missing it. 

“And look, it’s got all the same proper settings as before.”

The Doctor points the sonic at the wall. The tip glows blue and the humming sound is there. And then the wall, quite simply, evaporates.

Into a cloud of smoke.

When the smoke clears there is a hole where the wall used to be. Anna shrieks from across the hall. The sonic blew away the wall in the Doctor’s lab and continued on to Anna’s across the way.

He stares at the hole in dismay before turning helplessly to look at Rose. The sonic has burned out and is smoking in his hand, causing a contact burn that will take fully three weeks to heal.

Rose shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s working properly,” she comments.


	10. It's so very obvious to everyone watching us/That we have got something real good going on

Alarms are blaring overhead. Lights are flashing warnings and someone is yelling in the hallway. In one corner of the lab the ceiling has collapsed, and the resulting smoke has set off the sprinklers. 

“Bloody hell,” the Doctor murmurs. 

Rose looks around. “This is...this is...”

“An unfortunate accident?” he suggests, eyes trained on what was once a wall.

“Really, really bad, I was gonna say.” She throws him a look that is half annoyance, half laughter. “I’ll go see if anyone’s been hurt. You can stay and explain what happened.” Rose pulls out her phone. “I’ll find Dad and calm him down.”

“Be sure you tell him it was an accident.”

Rose doesn’t reply as she leaves. He suspects it’s just as well. It really was an accident, but perhaps on a slightly more dangerous scale. He looks with regret at the sonic screwdriver. The tip has disintegrated, the entire thing burned out and melted. For the first time he notices a burning sensation in his hand. The sensation abruptly turns into a ball of fire and he drops the sonic onto the floor. 

“Ow!” Turning his hand over, he sees bright red welts striping his palm and fingers. He winces.

“Ouch.” Anna is standing there, arms folded across her chest.

The Doctor pulls his attention away from his hand. “I’m sorry about your lab. Are you hurt?”

“No. Which is more than I can say for you.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be all right.”

She walks to him and takes hold of his arm. “The sink. Run the cold water.” She turns the tap on herself and guides his hand underneath the faucet. 

He lets out a hiss as the water hits the burn, and then relaxes as the pain starts to recede.

“What were you doing?”

“I was, er, building a sonic screwdriver.” He keeps his eyes on the water. 

“Why a sonic screwdriver?” Anna is puzzled by this. “As a tool or a weapon? Why not something more practical?”

“I liked it. It had every setting I could ever need.” 

“You could have had anything you wanted, and you chose a screwdriver.”

“Better than a squareness gun.”

She continues to stare at him. He takes uneasy note of the fact that she is tapping her foot and that there are those little metal sticks in her hair again. He hopes they’re knitting needles and that she won’t be pulling them out to poke him.

“Did it work?” she asks.

He gestures to the hole in the wall. “Absolutely. Well. For a moment, anyway. Briefly.”

She pulls his hand out from under the water and looks at it. His hand immediately starts to hurt, and he’s surprised there’s no smoke coming from his skin.

“That is just incredibly painful,” he mutters, putting it back under the water.

Anna steps to his phone, ignoring the people who are now looking into the room through the hallway.

“Dr. Harper? It’s Anna Ramsey from R & D. Yes, that’s us. No, nothing bad happened! We just had a little accident with some equipment. Dr. Smith has a severe injury - can you come up and take a look?”

The Doctor can’t hear the other end of the conversation - he can barely hear Anna over the voices in the hallway and the sound of the water running over his palm. He watches Anna wince and hold the phone away from her ear for a second.

“I’m not asking you to make a house call,” she snaps. “We have someone hurt up here, and he can’t come down.”

She slams the phone down and turns to glare at the Doctor. “He’s an arrogant one.”

The Doctor’s attention is back on his hand. “Who?”

“Owen Harper. Says he can’t be bothered to come up.”

“Well, I’ll go down to the medical wing.” It’s not something that he looks forward to. It’s not common knowledge, what he is, but enough people at Torchwood know to make it uncomfortable for him to be around the physicians that work there. Rose says it’s all in his head, but he knows they’re all anxious to get their hands on him and runs all sorts of unsavory experiments.

“Stay right there. The water will help the burn. He said he’s coming.”

A few months back he had some wounds from an alien attack. Rose was injured in the same attack, and his wounds healed faster than hers. They still hurt, still took longer than when he’d been a full-fledged Time Lord, and they’d left some faint scars. He hopes this body can heal efficiently from burns. It’s not the worst pain he’s ever felt, certainly not regeneration-worthy, but it’s painful all the same.

“Dr. Ramsey?” They turn around to see a man in a haz-mat suit standing there.

“Oh, now that’s unnecessary,” the Doctor protests. “There were no chemicals involved here.”

“I’m coming.” Anna walks out to the hallway. “This is going to take some time,” she says over her shoulder. “I’m sure Mr. Tyler will be by soon.”

“Thanks for those cheery words.” Left alone, the Doctor turns the water off. His hand is bright red and feels like it’s been thrust into burning lava. He turns the water back on and wonders where Rose went.

“What’s going on?” a man in a white coat asks in annoyance as he comes in. “What are you doing?”

The Doctor gestures to the sink. “I burned my hand. It’s a bit painful.”

“Let’s see.” 

“Who are you? Not that I’m not grateful for your assistance, because I am. But I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“I’m Dr. Owen Harper. I’m usually in the medical wing, keeping track of medical things.”

“Nice to meet you,” the Doctor says, his hand still under the faucet. “I’m the Doctor.”

“I know who you are.” Dr. Harper sets a black bag down on a nearby table and starts to take out various medical supplies. “You’re that alien bloke that Rose Tyler kept looking for.”

“Half-alien,” the Doctor feels compelled to say.

“What?”

“I’m only half-alien. I thought you should know that, in the interests of open communication. I possess a human body.”

“That’s great for you. Let’s have a look.”

“Dr.- Harper, was it? - what kind of doctor are you, exactly? In the interest of open communication.”

“I’m a medical doctor. And you can call me Owen, seeing as how we work together now.” Owen takes the Doctor’s hand and dries it off with a towel, drawing a painful exclamation from the Doctor.

“Owen, do you mind?”

“Mind what? I’m doing my job.”

“Your job is not to make me suffer.”

“Of course it is.” Owen lets go of the Doctor’s hand. “Can you flex your hand for me?”

The Doctor flexes his hand slowly and painfully. There are large blisters forming across the palm.

“Well. That looks very sore and painful.” Owen says this quite calmly.

“The pain, actually, is quite remarkable.”

“It’s deep,” Owen admits, “but it won’t scar up, and your hand should be as good as before once it’s healed. We’ll just wrap it up.” He takes out a basin, gauze and various tubes that the Doctor sincerely hopes are pain relievers.

“What were you doing, anyway?”

“Accident. I was testing a new piece of equipment and it, er, malfunctioned. Somewhat. Slightly.”

“We have a lot of accidents around here, don’t we?” Owen dabs on some sort of cream onto the Doctor’s palm. “Explosions, fires, aliens trying to escape.”

“Occupational hazard,” the Doctor agrees.

“It’s a damned circus around here most of the time,” Owen says.

“Yes, it is.” The Doctor thinks about this, glad for a distraction. “What are you doing here? You could be working out in civilian life.”

Owen grimaces. “I was. Had a nice job, nice apartment, nice girlfriend. Then Torchwood came calling.”

“What’d they want?”

“Me to work here. They needed someone after they took care of the Cybermen. I said yeah, and here I am.”

“Do you like it here?” The Doctor doesn’t feel like he had a choice - he belongs at Torchwood and he is needed here. Not everyone is needed.

“It’s all right. My girlfriend broke up with me when I wouldn’t tell her what I was doing or why I quit my job, but that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell her?” The Doctor is drawn in despite himself.

Owen snorts. “Who’s gonna believe that I’m working on aliens and alien hunters? Come on.”

The Doctor is silent, staring down at his hand.

Owen remembers who he is talking to. “That’s right,” he says slowly. “You’re an alien.”

“Half, technically.”

“Half, yeah. How’s that even possible? Did your mum have a go with a UFO?”

“It shouldn’t be possible, but it is. I’m the product of a genetic meta-crisis. Long story, complicated explanation, you have no hope of understanding it. Don’t try. But I’m part human and part Time Lord now. Haven’t you got a file on me somewhere?” The Doctor glances around the exam room. “Everyone does, it seems. On the last world, anyway.” 

“You’re a lunatic,” Owen tells him, wrapping a bandage around the burn. 

“Are you friends with Anna? Related, perhaps? You sound very much like her.” 

“Keep this covered,” Owen instructs. “You can leave the bandage off at night after a day or two. Let some air hit the skin.”

“Is that it? No salve? No compress for the pain?”

“Well, you’re healing properly. I put a numbing cream on the blisters, that should help. Keep it dry. Don’t use your hand too much. Move it normally as much as you can to keep the skin stretched - just don’t try to do any work with it. Take something for the pain if you need to. Rest that hand for a bit.”

He could have healed this injury with the sonic screwdriver, if he had one. The irony is not lost on him. The Doctor has to smile at himself. Maybe this is the kind of man he is now. Rude and not ginger and with no sonic capabilities.

At least not for now, he reminds himself. He’ll get it built right eventually.

“Anna said you were down here.” Rose has appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath. Her hair has come free of the knot she’d twisted it into this morning. “Are you all right? What happened? I just left!”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He holds up his hand. “The sonic burned me a bit.”

She winces. “Ouch.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” he assures her, trying to assume a manly pose. He’s certainly been hurt before. It’s just that usually, once he’s been hurt, he ends up either regenerating or healing up pretty quickly on his own.

Rose looks at the medical doctor. “Owen? Is he all right?”

“It’s a burn. It’ll be fine.”

“I said it’s not too bad,” the Doctor says patiently.

“No? Do you want to go home?” Rose is holding his hand gently, peering at the bandage as if she could see beneath it.

“No, of course not.” 

“You sure?”

He’s not at all sure. His lab is in pieces, a wall is gone, his latest sonic screwdriver is destroyed. Not to mention his hand. the thought of going home and lying down in a dark room is tempting.

“I’ll stay,” he says. “I should help clean up.”

“We need you for something else at the moment.”

He sighs. “Pete wants to see me, doesn’t he?”

She nods. “He does want to see you.”

“I was afraid of that,” he murmurs. 

“Be very afraid,” Rose whispers, and when she moves he sees Pete standing in the doorway.

The Doctor raises his bandaged hand. “Hello, Pete.”

Pete shakes his head. “Explosions. A wall disintegrated. You could have been killed.” He says this last bit looking straight at Rose.

“It was an accident, Dad. They happen.”

Pete shakes his head again and rubs the back of his neck. “Did it work? Whatever you were working on?”

“No, actually. It didn’t.” The Doctor tries for a winning smile and fails. Disappointment over the sonic screwdriver combined with the pain from the burn makes it hard to be sociable.

“All right. Take care of the hand.” Pete looks at the Torchwood doctor, standing still beside the table. “Dr. Harper? Is everything fine?”

“The burn will heal on its own. I’ll look at it tomorrow and see how it’s healing. Take it easy on the hand.”

“I will.”

“Very good. Thank you.” Pete turns to the Doctor. “We’ll take care of the lab. Rose?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“I’m not sure which one of you is taking care of the other most of the time, but please be careful.”

Rose smiles. “We will, Dad. Thanks.”

“Anyone else would have been put on leave at the least for that stunt,” Pete warns the Doctor on his way out. Dr. Owen Harper follows him, stripping off his gloves and tossing them in the trash as he leaves.

“People don’t always appreciate the scientific advancements going on around them,” the Doctor says.

Rose steps to him and brushes away a smear of dirt on his cheek. “You’ll get it,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder. His free hand comes up to squeeze her shoulders. 

“Thanks.” He kisses her hair and shuts his eyes.

 

Rose won’t let him go back upstairs. She leads him to her office instead, where Jake is waiting with a look of incredible amusement on his face.

“You blew up your lab!” he keeps saying, much to the Doctor’s annoyance.

“I did not blow up my lab. The sonic screwdriver had a slight programming malfunction.”

“Which caused the lab to blow up,” Rose adds.

“Jake, you can stop laughing at any time,” the Doctor says.

“Sorry, Doctor.” Jake tries to stop smiling and settles for a smirk.

“Jake, he worked very hard on the sonic screwdriver,” Rose says. “Let’s not tease him about it.”

“Who’s teasing? The man blew up his lab!”

“The lab did not blow up.” The Doctor sits down, cradling his hand against his chest. “A wall disappeared, that’s all.”

“That’s all,” Jake murmurs to himself. A look from the Doctor makes him clear his throat. “Anyway, Rose, it’ll be just you and me for a bit, eh? Until the Doctor’s hand heals up a bit.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Rose counters. “You really ought to go home for the day.”

“I’ll stay,” he says. “I have some things to catch up on.” He’ll be avoiding his own lab and office for a few days, but Rose’s computer will allow him the same access as his own.

The rest of the day passes in much the same way. The Doctor hides in Rose’s office for most of the time, reading emails, signing off on reports, and taking a truly worrisome amount of pain medication.

“If it’s that bad you ought to see a doctor,” Rose says.

“I am a doctor,” he replies, eyes still on her computer screen.

“You’ll damage your liver if you keep taking those.”

“Rose, that’s just a myth.”

“No, it isn’t.” Rose gives in and glances at her watch. “We still have a few hours. I’ll leave and we can go home.”

The Doctor almost agrees, but then Jake comes in, holding up a slip of paper.

“We have something, Rose. Let’s go.”

Rose turns to look at the Doctor. He waves her on with his bandaged hand. “Go on, Rose. I’ll be here.”

She smiles at him. “See you when we get back.”

When they’re gone the Doctor lowers his burned hand and winces. “Blimey, but that hurts.”


	11. When I'm starting to drown you jump in to save me

The lab is shaping up again. Plastic sheeting is hanging up where the wall used to be, and the dust has settled down. 

The Doctor is trying hard to act like everything is just fine. “Now, we have to meet Sally tonight. So we need to not be late.”

“We won’t be late.” Rose’s voice is muffled by the sounds of the clean-up crew who were sent to sweep up the debris after the sonic screwdriver incident. “Unless we get invaded by aliens at some point.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be the first time, would it? So let’s make sure we leave promptly and meet her at...” Here he falters for the slip of paper where he wrote down the address for the first house. “Well, wherever we said we’d meet her. Which I’m sure is someplace nearby and terribly convenient for us.”

Rose carefully steps over a shattered glass jar. “I wrote it down,” she tells him. “Oh! Here’s something.” She bends down and hands him a book.

“Well, this escaped damage, anyway.” He tucks it under his arm. “It won’t take long to set things right again, I suppose.”

Rose had come back from a quick field mission to find the Doctor still at her desk. He’d been looking at schematics for the sonic screwdriver, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. 

“You’ll be back here in no time,” she says. “Once your hand’s all better. And then you can start making a new sonic screwdriver.”

“Yeah.” His hand currently feels like it’s being roasted, but he doesn’t tell her that. He’s already visited Owen Harper for more pain medication, and doesn’t think it’d be a good idea to take any more. Anyway, it’s almost time to leave for the day, and then he can relax.

“Let’s grab something to eat before we go,” Rose says. “Fancy a biscuit?”

“Of course.” He offers her his arm. “To the cafeteria?”

“Where else?”

 

 

They meet Sally Marshall after work. Luckily they were able to leave on time, despite a late-day incident. Today Sally is dressed in an ivory suit that has somehow resisted all stains. If Rose wore that color it would be dirty within an hour. As it is, her slim grey skirt has a smear of dust on the hem, and her black heels are scuffed from chasing a runaway piece of electronic energy from Kiev. The planet Kiev, not the city.

Then again, Sally probably isn’t running around after aliens. Rose decides to overlook the spotless suit. The Doctor, of course, is immaculate in a blue dress shirt and dark trousers, despite the lab explosion and his part in subduing the electronic energy from Kiev. There are times when Rose really works at resisting the urge to muss his hair or wrinkle his shirt. The bandage on his hand is the only sign that he has not been having an absolutely uneventful, perfect day.

“Lovely to see you both,” Sally says cheerfully. “Did you find the place all right?”

“Yes,” the Doctor says, looking around. “No trouble at all.”

“I have several properties for you,” Sally says. “You’re going to love them.”

Rose is taken aback by such forceful enthusiasm. “That’s great,” she manages.

“Lovely. Now. This was built in 1987,” Sally says, gesturing to the house in front of them. “Good bones. They just redid the outside - new windows and doors.”

Rose and the Doctor nod as they look at it.

“It’s lovely,” the Doctor says, and Rose elbows him in the side. He coughs in response.

“I’ve got the key, here we are.” Sally hurries up the walk, heels clicking along.

“Now, you mentioned that you were looking for a good-size house,” she continues as she unlocks the front door. “Very wise. So many couples buy too small and then they have to look for a larger home later on. Are we expecting the pitter-patter of little feet anytime soon?” Sally laughs gaily at her own statement.

“Er...” Rose resists the urge to flee. She is saved from answering by the front door, which does not want to open. Sally gives it a bump with her hip and it swings wide. “Here we go!” she chirps.

Rose follows obediently, cursing her mother and making a note to find a new agent. The Doctor has a frown on his face and looks around him suspiciously, as if searching for small creatures with little feet, Sally’s meaning lost to him.

“Come on, love.” Rose links her arm through his. “If I have to do this, you have to do this.”

“Rose, don’t be silly. This was my idea.” He walks with her inside and takes a good look around. And another look around.

And he keeps looking all around the room, with a slight frown on his face.

“Are you all right?” Rose says in concern.

He turns to look at her, and his face is a combination of confusion and fear. Rose’s hand tightens on her arm.

“I’ll just go peek at the kitchen,” Sally says. “Come find me when you’re ready.”

“Doctor?” Rose says. “What is it? Talk to me.”

It’s just hit him, what they’re doing. All of it. He’s been made human and he’s trying to grow a TARDIS and he thinks it’s a great time for him and Rose to buy a house. A house. With doors and windows and a mortgage. He’s a Time Lord, not a man who needs to do these pedestrian things. This is ridiculous.

But he’s not a Time Lord, is he? Not anymore. What’s he doing?

“Hello?” Rose says quietly.

“This isn’t...it’s a house,” he says, feeling foolish.

“Love?” Rose asks tentatively when he doesn’t say anything else. 

“I just...it just hit me,” he says slowly. “These houses are the same, aren’t they? They don’t change. They don’t add on something you’ve forgotten. They don’t move. They just...they stay the same. Always. And you live in it and you do the same things over and over in them.”

“It doesn’t grow bigger or smaller,” she says carefully. “Is that what’s going on?” 

He sighs. “It’s gone,” he says, and she knows he’s referring to the TARDIS. “The sooner I accept that the better.” 

“We don’t have to do this,” Rose says. No matter what she wants, she’s not going to push him into something he doesn’t want.

He’s not sure what he wants at the moment, but he knows what he’s supposed to be doing.

“We’re here,” he says. “If we’re going to live an ordinary life we’d better get used to it, right?”

She shrugs. “Only if that’s what you want. Honestly, it’s all right with me.”

“What do you want?” he asks her. “Do you want to live a life, day after day?”

She thinks about it. “It’s our only chance,” Rose says finally. “What else would we do with it?”

“Yeah.” He nods slowly and looks around. “This room is a bit small, isn’t it?”

She puts her arm through his, not at all sure she’s ready for this herself. “Shall we go see the kitchen?”

He smiles at her, grateful that she understands him. “Yeah.”

“All new tile on the floors,” Sally tells them in the kitchen. “And a new range. Tile backsplash above the sink. And it looks like there’s an herb garden out back.”

The Doctor nods seriously, as though he understands every word Sally is saying. Rose rather doubts that he does, since he has very little to do with ranges, and no experience at all with backsplashes.

“What about the garden?” he asks, opening the back door.

“There’s no storage building, but you’d be able to build one,” Sally tells him, joining him outside.

Rose follows, standing next to the Doctor and putting her arm around his waist. It’s a nice yard, with a few trees and a swing in the corner.

There is really nothing wrong with the house that she can see. The rooms have nice large windows and there’s a cozy fireplace in the sitting room. The kitchen has a nice view of the garden. Rose looks around again.

“Plenty of room out here for company,” Sally says. “Don’t you think, Rose?”

Rose nods hesitantly. Honestly, she’s not sure what she’s looking for. Pete’s mansion is beautiful and huge, and their flat is small and boring. Something in between that, she’d thought. She’s been assuming she’ll see a house she likes and they’ll buy it. Not for the first time, she wonders if they rushed into this. She steps out onto the garden. There’s a tiny garage at the end of the drive. 

The Doctor walks out and stands beside her. “It’s very small,” he says to Sally. “The yard, I mean.”

“The upstairs has four bedrooms,” Sally says smoothly. “Plus a small office. Come and see.” She heads back inside.

The upstairs is acceptable to Rose, but the bathroom is tiny, as are two of the bedrooms.

“I don’t think so,” she says to Sally. “It is a bit small.” She feels foolish saying it, remembering the small flat she shared with Jackie back home. Living in the mansion didn’t spoil her or make her want bigger and better things, but they do need more room than this.

“Well,” Sally says, making a note on a clipboard, “it’s only the first one we’ve seen.” She smiles. “We’ll just keep it at the top of your list until the next one. Shall we go? I have two more for you to see. Shall we get going before it gets too dark?”

Sally drives them to the next house in her car, a luxury sedan with leather seats that Rose sinks back into and has to fight her way out of. The Doctor gives her a hand getting out of the car. She suspects it’s more because of the way her skirt slides up her legs than to be a gentleman. Because he’s used his left hand he ends up slightly off-balance, falling against Rose and pinning her to the side of the car.

“Sorry.” He’d caught himself with his injured hand and winces.

“All right?” Sally asks, looking concerned.

“Yes, thanks. Just an injury from earlier.” He shoves his hand in his pocket and wishes for an ice cube. “Rose?”

“I’m fine,” Rose says. “This is a nice house,” she says, looking up the walk.

“This house is an excellent neighborhood,” Sally says. “The school is around the corner and there are several parks nearby.”

The house has a nice structure but it’s decorated in floral chintz. Large roses bloom on the sofa, on chairs, and on the curtains. 

“Very nice,” the Doctor says approvingly.

Rose and Sally, who’d been exchanging a pained look at all the flowers, both turn in surprise.

“You like this?” Sally asks. She immediately covers her mouth with her hand, leading Rose to decide that she’s really not that bad an agent.

“Of course.” The Doctor gestures with his hand and they follow his gaze up. There’s a skylight in the ceiling.

“You can have sunshine during the day and watch the stars at night,” he says cheerfully. “A few too many flowers here, aren’t there?” He looks around, frowning. “An awful lot of flowers. Don’t you think, Rose?”

“This is a lovely model,” Sally says. “I sold the one across the street just after it was built. Lovely family. They raise purebreds out in the country.”

“Purebreds?” the Doctor asks in puzzlement. “In the country? Not here in their house?”

“She means dogs,” Rose tells him. “Dogs, not children.”

“Oh. Of course.”

There is a garden in the back with a small swimming pool. It’s a fine house but neither Rose nor the Doctor feels that compulsion to buy it. They stand in the garden and look around with blank expressions. Whatever they’re supposed to be thinking and feeling, well, they’re not. They’re not sure what to do. 

Sally senses their indecision. “Shall we talk about what else you’d like in a home?” she asks. “Are these styles not what you like? Are you looking for something bigger? Or smaller?”

Rose and the Doctor exchange a glance.

“I guess we just started out without being completely ready,” Rose confesses. 

“We thought it was time and then here we are,” the Doctor finishes. He does not add that if Jackie hadn’t called Sally, they wouldn’t be in this awkward position right now, wondering what to do. It seems a bit embarrassing to admit that maybe you’re not sure what to do with your life after all.

“All right.” Sally is not convinced that things are as they should be, but she is professional enough not to pursue it. “Shall we look at the last house?”

“Yes,” Rose says, trying hard to be eager. “That’d be great.”

Behind her the Doctor sighs.

“It’s new on the market today,” Sally is saying. “It’s not far from your flat.”

The last house is large and dark and looks slightly forbidding. Rose has seen haunted houses that look more inviting.

“It’s a bit...gothic,” the Doctor says finally, unable to look away.

“Yes, but it’s very nice inside. Let’s go take a look, shall we?”

Rose is looking around the neighborhood. The other houses all have lights on and appear to be very inviting. She decides to take a chance on this one, even though the Doctor is radiating suspicion and dissatisfaction.

“It’s just not very homey,” he complains, even though he’s not given the concept much thought before.

“You’ll see,” Sally says cheerfully, opening a door and ushering them inside.

The hallway is dark. Rose’s instincts tell her to turn around. The Doctor apparently feels the same. He slides his arm around her waist to hold her close. This may make him feel better, but it makes it harder for Rose to defend herself if needed. She wriggles away but is promptly captured again.

“Let’s see.” Sally touches a switch and the hallway transforms into a black and white marble floor with black leather chairs. “Here we are!”

“Very nice,” Rose says, relaxing and letting the Doctor hold her closer.

“The outside isn’t the best,” Sally admits, “but this looks nice enough. I was worried that we were walking into a witch’s lair. After you.” She waves her arm and Rose and the Doctor walk ahead.

“It’s very nice,” Rose says again. It is a nice looking house, but it seems cold and unwelcoming, and she can’t imagine wanting to spend an hour here, let alone the rest of her life.

Sally is examining the room with a critical eye. “They used a decorator, but not a very good one.”

“Is the heat turned off?” the Doctor asks, puzzled. “It’s a bit cold in here.”

Rose turns around, looking at the walls. “Maybe a window was left open.”

“We can certainly fix that.” Sally sets down her briefcase and walks to the back of the house. “I’ll just see where they keep the thermostat. Shouldn’t take more than a moment to fix it.”

Rose can’t shake the feeling that something in the house is wrong. The Doctor clearly feels the same way. He’s held on to her hand and won’t let go, not even when she tries to tug free. 

“You can let go,” she tells him. “I’m right here.”

“I’m in pain,” he says. “I need your support. Rose, do you notice something strange going on here? Strange apart from the fact that you and I are here trying to think about buying a house?”

“Strange like this house is acting all creepy and odd?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Even Sally, coming back into the room, appears distracted. “I’ve never felt like this in a house before,” she confesses with a small laugh. “Like something’s going to jump out at us and say boo!”

Rose has a sudden flashback to Chloe Webber’s house, standing in front of the closet while a drawing came to life and tried to pull her in. She shivers. The Doctor puts his arm around her.

“It’s only a house,” he says. “Four walls and a door and windows, nothing alive. Although I hear that a kitchen is the heart of a home, so perhaps we can look at the kitchen?” What he really wants is to leave, to just go home and soak his hand in ice water and forget about houses for a while.

“Right through here,” Sally says.

A creaking noise from the upstairs catches their attention as they pass the staircase to go into the kitchen.

“No one’s supposed to be home,” Sally says in confusion. “Hello-” She breaks off as the Doctor puts his hand on her arm.

“If someone were up there they would have heard us by now and come down,” he says quietly.

“There are no pets here.” Sally looks puzzled but not afraid. “Maybe they forgot we were coming.”

“And were sleeping?” Rose finishes.

“Well.” Sally is at a loss.

The Doctor starts to walk up the staircase.

“Wait,” Rose protests. 

“I’ll just be a minute,” he says. Another sound comes from the upstairs, and Rose is following him up.

“Come back,” Sally says sharply. “We need to go.”

They both turn to her. “What?” Rose asks.

“We need to go. Now.” Sally picks up her things. “Come on. This is not right. We shouldn’t be here.”

“Sally, I’ll check have a look and take care of it,” the Doctor says. “Rose and I deal with things like this a lot.”

“Something is wrong,” Sally tells him. “We need to go.”

“Sally, if something is wrong up there, we need to check it out,” Rose says.

“No, we need to leave. Now.” Sally walks to the front door and opens it.

“Sally,” Rose begins, even as another sound comes from upstairs.

“ _Now_ ,” Sally says, and looks very angry. The Doctor nods and walks to the door. Rose follows him, glancing behind her and wondering what is going on.

Sally locks the house up and leads them back to her car. “All right. I’ll see what other houses are on the market and call you later in the week, shall I?”

Rose is looking back at the house. Nothing is moving around in there, but it still feels spooky.

“Are you sure that it’s okay to leave it?” she asks Sally.

“The owners will be back soon, and I’m sure there’s nothing happening inside. We looked at the house and now we’re done. I’ll call you in a few days and we can talk about what else is on the market right now.” Sally is talking very quickly, fumbling with her bag and briefcase as she tries to unlock her car.

“Fine,” the Doctor says shortly. “We’ll talk to you later.”

They part ways on the sidewalk, waiting until Sally drives away. The Doctor starts walking down the street, and Rose has to work to keep up with him.

“Slow down,” she finally complains. “I’m wearing heels, for goodness’ sake.”

He immediately slows down. “I’m sorry.” He glances down at her shoes. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I just can’t run very fast in them.”

“Something was off tonight, Rose,” he says. “Sally was not acting like her usual self.”

“We’ve only met her twice,” Rose points out.

“I know, but something still isn’t right.”

“Should we go back to the house?” It seems like the right thing to do but Rose really doesn’t want to.

“No,” he says slowly. “We can’t break in because we heard a noise from the upstairs. Though I do wish I knew what was wrong with Sally tonight.”

“Ooh, maybe she’s been replaced by a body snatcher!” Rose suggests.

He rolls his eyes at her joke but grins down at her. “Where are we?”

Rose looks around. “I think about a mile from home.”

“Well, it’s not too late. What shall we do?” He looks down at her from the light of a streetlamp.

“You can buy me dinner someplace,” she suggests.

“Okay.” He takes her hand and heads down the street. “First place we find,” he assures her. “I’m starving.”

Over a dinner of not-too-bad pizza, Rose gathers up her courage.

“Are you happy here?” she asks.

“Well, the lighting’s not too great, but the pizza’s not bad. A bit overdone. The stuff we had in Rome in 2417 was much better, remember?”

“Yeah.” She does remember. The pizza that night was hot and cheesy and their table was lit by candles whose flames danced in a programmed pattern. It had been a fun night and it had been more than a lifetime ago.

“That’s not what you meant.”

She smiles. “No.”

“Am I happy here in this world?”

She nods, not trusting herself to speak.

“I’m happy, Rose. I’ve been with you and without you, and believe me, I prefer to be with you.”

“You didn’t ask for this, though.”

“Rose, we’ve been over and over this. How many times will I tell you before you believe me?”

“When you tell me you believe me.” She says the words in a rush, and he stares at her, mouth slightly open.

“You ask if I’m happy, here, with you,” she says, “and I am. I am happy and I tell you the truth but you don’t believe me. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re doing - you don’t believe me, not all the way.”

“I believe you,” he says. “Rose.”

“It wasn’t my choice but I know this was meant to happen. You and me, this was meant to happen.”

He smiles wryly. “You saw my creation, did you, before I took the Time Vortex away?”

“No.” She smiles despite the knot in her stomach. “Don’t be silly. I love you. I love you more with every day and I’m so happy that it doesn’t seem real. I couldn’t stand it if you weren’t as happy with me.”

“I am!” He leans across the table so she can hear him better in the crowded restaurant. “Rose, I’ve never lied to you. I knew the possibilities for me. If it hadn’t been for you maybe I would have stayed with him on the TARDIS. Been an odd sort of relationship, but you don’t get to choose family, do you? He couldn’t stay with you but I could. So I did.”

She brushes her fringe out of her eyes. “Even if the TARDIS never grows? Even if we never leave this planet?”

“If we never leave this planet I will be content,” he says. “I’ve seen everything in the known universe and then some. This is where I want to be.”

“Okay.” She wets her lips and smiles. “This is where I want to be, too. With you.”

He tilts his head to look at her consideringly. “Enough to want to buy a house?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“From Sally Marshall?”

She laughs. “Maybe we’ll give her another chance.”

“Maybe we ought to find another agent,” he corrects her. 

“Mum said she’s the top estate agent at her company, the last three years.”

“She’s strange, Rose.”

“Maybe. We’ll give her one more chance, yeah? And then we’ll fire her.”

He is satisfied with that. “Deal.”


	12. How did I survive in this world before you?

They walk home from the restaurant after dinner, holding hands and peeking in shop windows. 

At home they ignore the mail and the phone messages and go the bedroom to change out of their clothes. By unspoken consent they do not mention houses anymore.

Rose takes off her skirt and shirt, decides she doesn’t need a shower so late in the night. She puts on a tank top and sweatpants instead, and washes off her makeup. As she’s brushing her teeth at the sink the Doctor comes in and leans against the sink. He’s still wearing his work clothes.

Rose rinses her mouth out and dries her face. “How’s your hand?”

He looks down at the bandage. “It’s all right, I guess.” He starts to unwrap it, and Rose digs around for a new strip of bandage to cover it up with.

As he holds out his hand to examine the burn, Rose winces. “Ouch.” The skin is still raw and red and the blisters look painful. Across the middle of his palm is a slightly deeper burn that is just about the size of a sonic screwdriver.

“Yes,” he agrees. 

She carefully dabs on the cream Owen gave him at work and winds a new bandage around his palm. “You’ll have to keep this dry,” she says.

He makes a face. “That will be hard to do.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She smiles up at him. “Depends on what you’ve got planned.”

 

Rose goes to work alone the next morning. The Doctor had had an uncomfortable night with his hand. Every time he managed to fall asleep he ended up rolling onto his hand, and the pain would wake him up. It was a miserable few hours for him. Finally he got up and lay down on the couch in the dark.

Rose stops in the doorway, looking down at him. “Love?”

He looks up at her. “Hello.”

“How is it?” Rose doesn’t quite know how to treat him. He’s never been injured to such an extent before.

“It’s better,” he says shortly. “Still feels like it’s on fire.”

She sits down on the couch next to him. “I thought your Time Lord genes helped you heal faster,” she says. “You’ve been hurt before and it always got better soon.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t sound puzzled or upset about it. “The sonic had some alien elements in it. The combination was pretty severe, I guess. Not surprising, when you consider the fact that a wall disappeared.”

“Are you up to going in today?” she asks casually. She really doesn’t think he should.

He hesitates and then shakes his head. “Tell Pete I need a sick day.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?” she offers.

“I’m fine. Just some pain and blisters and probably an upcoming infection. Nothing serious.” He smiles at her. “Have a good day.”

Rose isn’t totally convinced, but she doesn’t want to treat him like an invalid. “All right.” She kisses him goodbye and heads out to defend the Earth.

The Doctor leans back against the couch and yawns. The pain relievers he took before Rose woke up are taking effect, and he closes his eyes to take a quick nap.

When he wakes up a few hours later he’s surprised by how much time has passed. He’d slept for three hours and forty-three minutes last night, and he’s just spent another two hours, twenty-seven minutes asleep on the couch. His hand feels better, though. He looks at the hand thoughtfully. Maybe more sleep is necessary to heal faster.

He makes himself a sandwich and eats it at the kitchen table while he reads the paper. The usual complement of criminal activity and glamourous events out in London today, by the looks of things. A small photo shows him Jackie and Pete, dressed in black tie and attending a charity event the night before. He wonders briefly where Tony was - usually he stays with them if his parents have something to do.

Turning to the horoscopes is more of a habit now than anything, and he scans the column until he hits his own.

_“Keep an open mind and a clear conscience and you will go far in business this week.”_

“That’s just rubbish,” he mutters, and tosses the paper aside.

He checks on the TARDIS, still growing in the cot in the spare bedroom.

“How are you?” he asks it. “Anything I can get you?”

It doesn’t answer, of course. He asks again, this time in the old language that feels slow and halting on his tongue. He repeats his words, just to hear the sound of them again. His people are gone, more so now than ever before. They never existed here in this universe. There is not even an echo of them.

That’s still hard to accept.

He has time to kill before Rose comes home, and he doesn’t want her to think that he’s been waiting for her all day. He logs in to the website of one of the universities in London. He’s made friends with some of the scientists who work there. Not close friendships, because a close friend might start asking questions about his background and his knowledge, and he’s not ready for that. But he’s certainly on friendly terms with them. Rose likes to tease him about it and asks when he’s leaving Torchwood to solve this world’s scientific mysteries.

He wouldn’t, of course. It’s not as much fun.

He does some work on a paper he’s writing, stops after a few minutes because it hurts his hand to type so quickly. 100 words a minute - fastest temp in Chiswick. 

There’s really nothing much left to do in the flat. He certainly doesn’t want to clean anything. Finally he gives in and turns the tv on.

A knock on the door catches him just as he sits down. It’s Jackie.

“Jackie!”

“Rose said you were hurt. I came to see.” Jackie walks in, setting her bag down on the couch and turning to look him up and down, hands on her hips.

“You look awful,” she says bluntly.

“Thanks very much.”

She ignores him. His hair is mussed and his clothes are wrinkled. His face is a bit pale, even for him, and she doesn’t miss the way he’s holding his hand against his chest.

“Sit down,” she says. “I brought you lunch.”

“I’ve already eaten.”

“Mrs. Colton made it.”

“Really?”

“Come on.” Jackie walks into the kitchen, expecting him to follow.

“Oh. Well, if she made it.” He sits at the table and allows Jackie to hand him a container. He can always blame it on the pain pills later.

Jackie sits down across from him, setting out plates and forks for the two of them. “What are you up to?”

He’s blissfully chewing warm pasta and doesn’t answer right away. “Mm. Brilliant. Not going to work today. I was about to watch some television.”

“Don’t you have anything else to do?”

He thinks guiltily of the TARDIS growing in the other room. “No. Not today.”

“Don’t usually see you just sitting around doing nothing.” Jackie takes two bottles of Vitex out of her bag. “D’you want cherry-lite or grape?”

“Neither one, thanks.”

She levels a look at him.

“Honestly, Jackie, I’m not that fond of Vitex.”

She glances around as if there might be someone else in the room with them. “Neither am I, to be honest,” she confides, pushing the bottles aside. “Never was when my Pete was trying to sell it, years back. I was amazed as anything when they told me Pete made his fortune on the stuff.” She stands up. “How about some tea?”

“Oh, I’d love that.”

She looks in the cupboards, finding the teakettle and tea and setting it on the stove for the water to boil.

“Where were you last night?” he asks.

“Oh, Pete had a charity event through Vitex. We went for a little while. I was going to ask you to come but Pete said you’d hurt your hand.”

“Where was Tony? You didn’t bring him by.”

“He stayed at a friend’s house last night. He’s getting old enough to want to do things like that.”

“He’s still a bit small for that.”

“I know, but he wanted to so bad. I’m going over to pick him up after this.”

He nods, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Jackie Tyler, mother and wife. Her hair is still long and blonde and her makeup is colorful. She’s wearing much nicer clothing and real jewels, but essentially she’s still the same Jackie she’s always been. He’s very glad about that. There’s been so much change in his life that this one constant is a very good thing, even if he won’t admit it to her.

“Did you look at houses with Sally? Rose never told me.”

“We looked.” He’s uncomfortable talking about this, because his reaction to the houses is something he’s still trying to figure out.

“Well, don’t rush into anything,” Jackie advises. “Take your time and make sure you find the right one.”

“Oh, absolutely! We are going to take our time. Lots and lots of time.”

“Well, don’t take too long. Neither one of you is getting any younger.”

His mouth twists in a wry grin. “No, we’re not.”

Jackie is silent for a moment, looking at her hands. It’s very unlike her to be this quiet with him, and he watches her uneasily. Finally she looks up. Seeing his eyes upon her face, she smiles.

“You’re the same,” she says simply. “You’re big ears with the leather jacket who took my Rose away for a year. You’re the one who saved the world with a sword and a satsuma. You’ve saved the world over and over again, haven’t you? But you don’t know what to do here.”

“I’m right here. I know what to do.”

“It’s different, taking on a new life. Trying to pretend to be something you’re not. I manage it okay. Rose is fine, now that you’re here. But it’s not so easy for you.”

He can’t help but be defensive at this statement. “Jackie, I’m fine. Honestly.”

She smiles at him and actually reaches out to touch him. Memories of previous slaps flash before him, but he doesn’t flinch. He’s reduced to speechlessness when Jackie smoothes back his hair.

“You stayed here, with Rose. You loved her enough before to send her home, even though she didn’t stay. And this time you stayed with her.”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak.

“You can use all the excuses you want, Doctor, but I know the real reason. You’ve loved her all along. I don’t blame you for staying. I’m sorry that you’re human now, if that’s not what you want, but I won’t pretend I’m not happy for Rose. I get to have her here, I don’t have to lose her again.”

Again the memory of the TARDIS comes between them, and he wonders what Jackie will do if she ever finds out.

He swallows hard. “Jackie.” It’s difficult to hold such a conversation with her. They’ve never been close before. Since he’s come here they’ve been friendly, and he knows that she is happy he stayed, but they don’t burden each other with very many of their personal thoughts.

“Life is hard,” Jackie says softly. “But it’s worth it. I want that for you and Rose. I want you to be happy.”

“We are happy.” 

“I love Rose,” Jackie continues. “More than my own life. And I care about you, too.”

His mouth works open and closed, but he can’t find any words. He’s stunned by this open admission.

Jackie smiles, a mischievous smile that he rarely sees on her. “Never thought I’d see the day when I actually liked you,” she says, “but it’s here.”

He smiles back at her. They’re bound together by their love of Rose, but he does care about Jackie for her own sake.

“Now,” she continues, “I know that you and Rose have had some problems in the past. I know you’re not exactly him, but she knows that. She wants you.”

His head jerks a bit, involuntarily. Jackie has hit his sore spot, right on the head.

“She does,” Jackie says.

“I wasn’t her first choice.” He’s never spoken like this to Jackie, but their relationship is on easier terms than it used to be. “If it were up to her she’d be there with him, and I’d be...well, somewhere else, I suppose.”

“Well, it wasn’t up to her and you’re here together. So make the most of it. Do you think I lie awake at night, worrying if Pete loves me or just the memory of his first wife?”

The Doctor looks up at that, meeting her eyes.

The kettle starts to whistle, and Jackie sighs. “I do, sometimes. Even after all this time. And I know he wonders the same about me. But we still made it work.”

Rose is very brave, he thinks. But she learned that from her mother. Jackie will do what needs to be done, will face whatever she has to. He’s a bit sorry he never understood that before.

“Thank you, Jackie.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t need to thank me. Now. Have some tea. I better get going or Tony will wonder where I am.”

“Tell him we’ll see him soon.”

After Jackie leaves he watches a movie. He didn’t catch the title but the storyline had something to do with a man and and woman trying to track down tornadoes. It is almost, but not quite, like another movie he’d seen back on the other Earth, years before. The entire thing confuses him so much that he turns the tv off and takes another nap.

When he opens his eyes again the room is dark, and Rose is sitting beside him.

“Hi.” He struggles to sit up, clearing his throat.

“Hi.” She smiles back at him. “Have a good day?”

“Yeah. Your mum came by.”

“I know. She was worried about you. Dad told her what happened.”

“She brought me lunch.”

“How’s the hand?”

It hurts a bit, but he shrugs. “It’s all right. I’ll be back at work tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” she asks in concern. “I don’t know that you could do much.”

“I’ll be all right. Even if I can’t go out I can get some things done.”

“Your lab is being repaired.”

“Good.”

“Anyway, I brought dinner home. Want to eat in here?” Rose doesn’t wait for an answer but stands up to get it all ready.

“Shall we watch a movie?” Rose sets out containers on the coffee table. “We’ve been doing that a lot lately, but there’s hardly anything else we can do, is there, with your hand all red and swollen.”

“Already done, Rose Tyler.” He nods at the tv. “I’ve been watching a lot of television lately,” he confesses. “Feels wrong, but there’s not always a lot to do at night.”

“What, when I’m asleep?”

“Yeah. I can’t go over scientific theories all night, can I?”

“Of course not,” she agrees. “I couldn’t. But isn’t that when all of your scientist friends are roaming the message boards online?”

“Well, I can’t spend all my time doing that, either. Here we go.” He stops the channels at one that looks suspiciously like a science-fiction movie. 

Rose tries not to cringe. “How about something fluffy and fun? A romance? Or a musical?”

“Musical,” he scoffs.

Despite herself, Rose gets lost in the movie. The plot itself doesn’t make very much sense, but it’s nice to just sit and relax. She’d spent the day meeting with Pete and Jake and working out how to fill the Doctor’s absence. She squeezes in beside him and rests her head on his shoulder. 

Halfway through the movie she gets up to clear away their dinner. She brings him back a glass of Vitex and a pain pill.

“No popcorn?” he asks. “I thought that was getting to be a regular Tyler habit.”

“Maybe later.” She sits back down next to him, propping her feet up on the table. 

“It’s a bit silly, isn’t it?” she asks after a few minutes. “How come those little snake things are slithering all over the place?”

“I’m not really sure,” he admits. “It may be because that tall silo is emptying that green toxic stuff into their habitat. Or possibly because those mutant birds are looking for a meal.”

“We need to find better movies,” Rose says.

She’s grown very comfortable leaning against him, but she can’t help feeling relieved when the movie is over.

“Well.” She sits up straight and stretches. “The world is safe again. Thank goodness.”

She stands up and heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she returns, the Doctor is sitting in the same spot, watching credits roll past on the tv screen.

“Love?” she asks.

“That was another Sam Lively movie,” he says slowly.

“Was it? Who’s Sam Lively? Did he play the bloke who got swallowed by the giant bird?”

“This was a Sam Lively production. He writes and directs these movies. Look.” He pulls out _Lights!Camera!Action!_ from the table and shows her the article he’s bookmarked.

“Is this what you do in your free time? Read gossip magazines?”

“It’s not gossip, Rose, honestly. Look.”

Rose scans the article he’s pointing out, reads the lists of what she assumes are movies. “He’s done a lot of them,” Rose observes. “That last one even sounds familiar.”

“It is! We watched it a few months ago, right here in this flat.”

It’s clear he considers this news momentous, but they’ve watched a lot of things in this flat. She’s forgotten most of them. Rose waits for him to continue.

“Don’t you remember? Earth and Venus? Humans and Venusians at odds? I said to you, at the time, that the Venusians were very much like they were portrayed in the movie!”

“The Venusians.”

“From Venus.”

“There aren’t any people on Venus.”

“No, not now! But in a few centuries they’ll be discovered, and by the thirty-first century they’ll be as lively and outspoken as they were in the movie.”

Rose doesn’t quite know what to say. “Maybe if we watched it again?” she suggests.

“And these films, all of them. They’re different alien beings, different planets, different time periods, but they’re all correct.”

“It’s science fiction, love. So he got lucky and made something accurate without knowing it’ll be accurate in a thousand years or whatever.”

“Rose! How can you not see this! Look.” The Doctor pulls out a notebook. “See?”

She decides to humor him and takes the notebook. There are names of what she assumes are films, all with science-fiction sounding titles. Some of them are the ones listed in the magazine she just read. He’s written down the writer, director and main actors for each one, as well as a description of the plot. The plot descriptions are enough to make her want to roll her eyes and close the book, but she keeps going.

“What am I looking for?” she asks, turning notebook page after notebook page. “Blimey, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

“Underneath the movie stuff I’ve written how closely it resembles reality, as it was or is or will be. It’s all correct, Rose! This man has an astounding knowledge of alien life.”

She shuts the notebook and grins at him. “I suppose next you’ll be telling me that he is an alien.”

He simply stares at her.

Her easy grin fades. “No!” she exclaims. “Doctor, this is ridiculous!”

“Rose, you are discounting my ideas. I’m fairly certain this man is somehow connected to aliens.”

“How is he connected to aliens?”

“This information is all accurate! It makes perfect sense.”

“To you, maybe. We don’t have him on our radar at Torchwood.”

“No, because no one suspects him! He’s making movies. They’re not supposed to be real, so he can do anything he likes and no one knows any better.”

Rose considers this. “All right. So he is. Even if he is an alien, does it matter? He’s not hurting anyone.”

“No.” He can’t bring himself to voice his real reasons for tracking Sam Lively down. Another alien to talk to, to ask how he got to this place.

To ask if there’s a way to leave this place.

“Seems we’d be doing him a favor by leaving him alone,” Rose says. She knows Torchwood is meant to track down aliens and alien technology for the good of the Earth, but she’s not eager to go looking for someone who isn’t harming anyone.

“We’re not going to bother him. If he’s an alien we ought to investigate.”

“That’s a pretty big ‘if’, Doctor, you have to admit.”

“I’m just suggesting theories, Rose.”

“What’s really going on?” she asks. 

“Nothing! Nothing is going on. I have a simple curiosity about this.”

“Maybe he’s not an alien at all. Maybe he’s a...a time agent or something.”

“And he left the Time Agency to make movies on Earth?”

Put that way, it does sound a bit odd. But no more odd than alien movie producers.

“Maybe we can look into it,” Rose says. “But without telling Dad.”

He nods enthusiastically. “A covert mission. You and me, sneaking around, looking for trouble.”

She can’t help laughing. “Just like old times.”


	13. What can you do with a day?  What will you wake up and see?

“I’m coming to work today,” the Doctor says that morning. “I’m not meant to stay home all day.”

“Owen said that another day off would be good for your injury.”

“I don’t care what Owen says. I’m bored.”

“I thought you had some work to do,” Rose says from over her bowl of cereal. 

“I finished up my latest scientific monograph.” He says this casually but still manages to infuse a certain amount of smugness into his voice.

“What’s this one about, then?” Rose always listens politely when he talks, even when he reaches points that she simply can’t understand. It’s something that he adores about her.

“Black holes and the time-space continuum.”

As he suspected she would, Rose shudders a bit. “I don’t need that one explained to me, thanks. I know enough about black holes to last a lifetime.”

“It’s nothing much. Just something I thought of the other night. Dr. Knowles of London University thought it sounded very promising.”

“Well, that’s nice.” Rose gets up and pours a bowl of cereal for him. “Here. Sit down.”

“I can get my own stuff,” he protests.

“Can you?” she asks, bending down to kiss him once he’s sitting down. 

“Of course. But thank you.”

“Absolutely.” Rose pats his head. “I’m gonna get dressed.” She kisses the top of his head as she passes him, running her hand over his hair. She laughs softly. “Is that all that’s wrong?” she teases him. “Nothing else?”

He looks up at her. “You know all my secrets, Rose Tyler. You tell me.”

She looks into his eyes for a long moment. “That’s everything,” she says softly. 

“You’re right,” he says back.

He sits alone at the table, wondering what he’s ever done to deserve her. He hopes that’s all it is, a strange human urge to want what he can’t have. Surely he can’t be that fickle, to only want Rose as long as there’s no way out?

He thinks hard and decides he isn’t. He truly does want to have an ordinary life. If the TARDIS never grows properly, it will be a disappointment, but he will be happy anyway. As long as he has Rose, he is happy.

_“Are you sure?”_

“Yes, I’m sure,” he mutters. “Go away, Donna.”

_“Then be sure and be happy. Don’t mess it up for yourself again.”_

“I won’t.” 

“Have you showered?” Rose calls from their bedroom.

“Er, no.” He shakes his head to clear it of Donna’s voice and takes a quick sniff of his shirt. “Maybe I should.”

“I can get you a glove for your hand to keep it dry,” she offers, coming back into the kitchen. She’s started to change out of her night clothes.

“A glove?” He makes the face that Rose privately calls the pouty one. “I don’t need a glove.”

“It will hurt if you get your hand wet.”

He looks at his hand and then looks at her, smiling hopefully. “How about a sponge bath?”

She can’t help it. She bursts out laughing. “No way. But I’ll help you wash your hair.”

“Deal.”

Washing his hair ended with water all over the bathroom, and Rose wearing a top that’s now soaking wet.

“You got soap in my eyes,” he complains.

“Oh, shut up.” Rose strips off her wet clothes. “I didn’t know the tap could spin around like that.”

“Me either.” He swipes at his head with a towel. “We might as well have stepped in the shower.”

Rose looks around at the bathroom. “I ought to mop. The water will soak through the floor.”

He’s stopped toweling his hair and is looking at her, a very familiar gleam in his eye.

“What?” she starts to say. “No, not now.”

“Oh, yes, Rose Tyler. Right now.”

“We’re soaking wet,” she protests half-heartedly.

“That’s what makes it fun,” he tells her, and kisses her.

 

 

They share a shower together afterwards, Rose washing his hair for him again.

“I’ll wash yours next time,” he offers.

“I won’t forget,” she warns him.

He dresses himself a bit clumsily but capably. He even styles his own hair, something he would never allow Rose to help him with. Afterwards Rose helps him change his bandage and apply more blister cream. As she gets dressed he fetches the morning newspaper and settles down on their bed to read it.

“You ought to make the bed before you sit in it again,” Rose says mildly.

“Mm hm. Bright lights flashing over London last night. They’re claiming it was a zeppelin.”

“Wasn’t it?” Rose fastens her belt and chooses a blue top to go with her jeans. “London’s full of zeppelins.”

“That’s what the unsuspecting populace is supposed to believe. I’m sure Torchwood is already on it.”

He’s sitting against their pillows, bent over the paper that’s opened up on the bed. His hand is resting in his lap, the other one turning the pages. Scattered here and there on the bed and on the floor are several varieties of teddy bears and other animals.

Rose can’t help herself. She picks up a small stuffed dog and places it on the bed beside him.

“What’s that?” He peers down at the dog over his glasses. “Oh, it’s Max.”

“The dog is named Max? Why Max?”

“Why name a dog, is what you should be asking. I don’t know. Seemed like he should have a name.”

Rose sits down next to him, close enough that he can smell the shampoo in her hair. It’s a light apple scent, same as the scent in his hair. He likes it better on Rose.

“What else is happening today?” she asks. She puts her arm behind his back, leaning on it to look at the paper with him.

_“You will be approached by a mysterious stranger.”_

“Still reading the horoscopes, then?” 

“I am to be on the lookout for someone mysterious.”

“Yeah? I wonder who it is.”

“Could be anyone. So many mysterious people in London.”

She nods seriously. “I’d watch out if I were you.”

He turns his head so their eyes are on the same level. “Oh, I will. It’s the smart thing to do.”

She takes his glasses off and kisses him. “You know what else would be smart?” she murmurs.

“Calling in sick today?” he suggests, pulling her onto his lap so he can better kiss her neck.

“Yes. No! Yes, do that.”

Things are progressing to the point that they may need another shower before work, but they’re interrupted by Rose’s mobile phone.

“Of all the times,” she mutters, climbing off of his lap and off the bed. “Where is it?”

He gets up and helps her look. They find it just as it stops ringing. Rose stares at it in frustration. Before she can check the caller ID, his phone starts to ring. Another search ensues for his phone, which turns out to be in his jacket. Because it’s the jacket with the Time Lord technology pockets, it takes him a long moment to dig it out. It stops ringing just as he puts it to his ear.

Rose’s phone rings again, and this time she answers immediately.

“Hello!” 

It’s Jake. “Have you heard about the zeppelins over London last night?”

“They weren’t really zeppelins?” Rose guesses.

“Not unless a zeppelin is round, glows with green lights and shoots out laser fire.”

“Excellent. We’ll meet you at the Tower.”

The Doctor slowly puts his jacket on. “You owe me another shower,” he says. His pouty face is back on, and Rose kisses him into a smile.

 

The next morning they go in to work at the normal time. The Doctor has a report to write about their zeppelin encounter the day before. It was indeed a zeppelin seen over London, but it had been driven by an alien. Jake and Rose had handled the alien admirably, seizing the zeppelin and arranging for the creature to return home by other means. It had caught a flight to Sydney, where its companions were waiting for it. 

Rose leaves the Doctor typing at her computer - his desk was destroyed when a wall fell in on it the other day when the sonic screwdriver malfunctioned. He’s typing one-handed, but still doing very well.

“Rose!”

Rose turns around in the hallway. “Morning, Riley.”

“Knitting class tonight,” Riley says in a low voice. “Anna’s putting up a flyer.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again. Are you coming?”

“Of course I’m not coming. I’d rather-” Rose breaks off as Anna approaches them. Honestly, she thinks to herself, doesn’t she have anything scientific to do?

“Morning, Rose,” Anna says cheerfully. “Are you coming to knit tonight?”

Rose knows, of course, that Anna won’t be hurt if she says no. Still, she can’t do it.

“Of course,” Rose says. “Absolutely I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll see you later.”

“Good,” Riley says. “You can see my scarf. It’s getting better. Where are you going?”

“I need to find my knitting needles,” Rose tells her over her shoulder.

She’d left her knitting needles and yarn in a potted plant in the Torchwood lobby after her first and only class, but when she goes looking for them they’re gone. She’s disappointed but not surprised. The cleaning crew would never overlook something like that. 

“Can I help you?” someone asks from behind her. 

Rose straightens up from the floor, where she was kneeling among the plants checking the pots.

“Oh, hello, Rose.” Simon is standing there, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

“I was just looking for something,” she tells him.

“Yeah? What?”

“Never mind,” Rose says sternly.

“All right, fine. Where’s Jake?”

“He’s around somewhere. What do you need?”

“Just a quick question. I’ll find him.”

“Hey,” Rose says, stopping him as he’s turning around, “do you mind telling the Doctor that I’ll be right back?”

“Sure. Where are you going so early?”

“Just need to pick something up for later.”

 

Rose doesn’t believe in horoscopes. She doesn’t believe in magic tricks or illusions, doesn’t believe in unexplained happenings that have no explanations. She’s not superstitious. Friday the Thirteenth is just another day for her. Rabbit feet belong on the end of rabbit legs, and black cats are sweet.

But when she sees a mysterious woman dressed in a black trench coat and dark glasses hanging around outside the Torchwood lobby as she return to the building, Rose’s instincts tell her to notice. 

Slowing down as she enters the lobby, Rose shows her security badge to the guard and asks him to watch the carrier bag filled with needles and yarn. Slipping around the corner, she stands behind a potted plant so she can see out a window without being obvious about it.

It’s the same women she saw in the Chinese restaurant, she’s sure of it. Why it should matter so much she can’t say, but she watches anyway.

The woman is pacing back and forth, looking nervous. What is she doing?

Rose pulls out her mobile and dials the Doctor.

“Where are you?” she asks him.

“Jake’s office. Where’d you go? Is there something wrong? You all right?”

“I’m fine. Listen, can you come down to the lobby for me?”

“Right now?”

“Please?”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, love. Try not to pass in front of the lobby doors.”

Rose waits a few minutes, watching the woman all the while. She’s still walking around outside. Several Torchwood employees pass by and give her the once over. Rose hopes she can do this before someone apprehends her and hauls her in for suspicious activity.

“What are you doing?” The Doctor’s breath is warm in her ear. 

She turns her head and smiles at him. “I think I have a mysterious stranger.”

“Really?” He nudges his head in next to hers and peers outside. “Where? Hang on. That woman there. Where have we seen her before?”

“At the Chinese place last week. She walked by our table.”

“No, that’s not it,” he disagrees.

“She walked right by our table. You were talking to Jake.”

“I didn’t see her there. But I saw her on the street the other night when I ran down to buy some milk.”

“Really? What was she doing?”

“This, pretty much. Skulking about. I thought it was odd that she was wearing dark glasses at night,” he admits.

“What do you think?”

“Shall we go see who our mysterious friend is, Lewis?”

“Absolutely, Sarge.”

The Doctor walks out first. Rose hangs back and watches. Sure enough, as he heads down the street the woman in the trench coat starts to follow him. Rose falls in line behind her. The Doctor walks on, hands in his pockets. He’s not wearing a jacket and Rose feels bad that she’s sent him out in the cold without one. He turns into a bookstore and the woman follows.

Rose sighs. Whoever this is, she is apparently after the Doctor. Rose hopes she won’t need a weapon.

The Doctor has paused by the science section. He’s flipping through a book on the rainforests when he senses someone standing beside him. Setting the book down, he turns casually and reaches out a hand to grab her arm.

The woman jumps back, about to yell. 

“I wouldn’t,” Rose says quietly from behind her. “Did you want to talk to us?”

The woman lets out a long breath and removes her glasses, revealing large blue eyes. “Dr. John Smith?”

“Yes,” he says warily.

“I need to speak to you,” she says urgently.

He exchanges a glance with Rose. “Of course.”

The bookstore has a small cafe in the back, and they sit at a tiny table together, Rose and the Doctor crammed so closely together to make room for their mysterious stranger that she’s practically sitting on his lap.

“So who are?” the Doctor asks.

“My name is Janet. I’m a freelance writer.”

“Yes?” he says when she stops. “And?”

“My professional name is Janet Jupiter.”

“You’re kidding! Janet Jupiter!” the Doctor says in absolute delight. “We’re big fans of your horoscopes.”

“He is,” Rose is compelled to interject. Just for the record.

She smiles faintly. “Yes. I write horoscopes. My real name is de Lancie, but Jupiter has a nicer ring when it comes to astrology, I thought.”

“Oh, absolutely,” the Doctor agrees. “Why are you following us?”

“You read the horoscopes each morning. You’ve caught my warnings.”

“What warnings?” Rose asks. “They’re just made up nonsense.”

“No, they’re not. Mine aren’t, I mean. Mine are accurate.”

“Hardly accurate,” the Doctor disagrees. “Half the time nothing happens for days on end. Makes it very dull to look forward to.”

“I am always accurate,” Janet says frostily. “However, it’s not always accurate for every reader.”

“Are you saying that if we’re not looking for the right answer we won’t find it?” Rose asks skeptically.

“No. I’m saying that I have an ability to see what will happen. But not for everyone, obviously. Sometimes it will be correct for you, sometimes for the man who lives across the hall from you.”

“What kind of ability? Are you a psychic? Fortune teller? Gypsy?” 

Janet shakes her head. “I’m none of those things. My abilities come from...something else.”

“Magic beans?” the Doctor can’t help asking.

She flushes angrily. “You may mock me, Dr. Smith, but I assure you that this is real. I’ve been following you because I think you can help me.”

“Yeah? With what?”

She looks around, but the cafe is deserted. “I have a friend who is in trouble. I need someone experienced to help him.”

Rose shakes her head. “Who do you think we are?”

“You’re Rose Tyler. Heiress to Vitex.”

“We haven’t got money for you,” Rose says instantly. “That’s not my money.”

“I don’t want money,” Janet says in surprise. “I want you.”

“You’d better explain that,” the Doctor says in a quiet voice. “You don’t want to be threatening her.”

“I am not threatening either one of you. For a while now we’ve been holding it...at bay. We had no way to fix our problem ourselves. But then you came back with the Doctor, and we realized that you’d known all along!”

“Known what? You’re talking in riddles.”

Janet leans forward. “You weren’t raised somewhere else, were you, Rose Tyler? Private schools and waiting to be reunited with your parents? Jackie Tyler was dead the night the Cybermen came here. The woman who came back with you and your dad is a different Jackie.”

Rose’s face pales but she rallies. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My mum is my mum.”

“But you weren’t always here on this Earth, were you?” Janet whispers. “You came from somewhere else. Both of you,” she adds. “I could tell.”

“You know we work for Torchwood,” the Doctor says with a friendly smile. “But that doesn’t mean that we’re all aliens. Our mission is to protect the Earth from them.”

“But not all aliens are bad!” she exclaims.

“No, of course not,” he says quickly. “But typically, the ones who come down here aren’t coming to make friends and swap recipes.”

“I’m not meant for intrigue,” Janet says with a sigh. “Obviously. So let me lay it out for you. You, Rose Tyler, came from a parallel world. So did your mum. You, Dr. Smith, came from there as well. You’re human, but there’s something else to you, too. I can’t tell what it is, exactly, but I know it’s there. I need your help. My friend is being threatened and I need someone familiar with aliens and other worlds.”

The Doctor sighs. “Who’s your friend?”

Janet looks at them both, as though trying to make sure they will help her.

“His name’s Sam Lively.”

“Sam Lively!” the Doctor and Rose chorus together.

“Yes. Have you heard of him?” she asks, surprised.

“We love his films,” the Doctor says with a straight face.

“Look.” Janet leans forward. “This may be hard to believe, but please believe it. I am not from this world. My abilities are normal for my people but unusual among humans here. I used my talents to get a job here years ago. I was happy. My friends eventually came and settled in London and around England. Sam came and thought it would be fun to make movies. He’s had some success.”

“Your friends,” Rose says. “Other aliens? Like you?”

“Yes. Sam brought them. He gave a lot of them work at his company.”

“Aliens,” Rose murmurs. “Aliens already here, for years and years before we got here.”

“We’re not the like Cybermen. We have no wish to conquer. All we want is to blend in and live normal lives. We just happen to like Earth.”

“And what’s wrong with Sam?” the Doctor asks.

“Someone from his galaxy followed him here. For the past few weeks there were just threats made, comments made among certain people at certain gatherings. Sam thought it was just talk. He thought this person was just envious of his success.”

“And?”

“The Sam had an accident. His car filled up with oxygen.”

“That’s an accident? There is oxygen all around us.”

“Our people can all metabolize oxygen, but we would never go looking for more, like to breathe through a tube or something. Too much can be as deadly to us as too much carbon monoxide is to humans.”

“So this happened and Sam did what?” the Doctor prompts.

“He was worried but he didn’t know what to do. Where would we do? The police couldn’t help us, and if any of us went to Torchwood we’d never get out of there.”

“What do you mean?” Rose asks, a bit indignant.

“You hunt aliens. You keep them for study.” This painful truth is whispered, as if Janet can’t stand the mere idea.

“No, we don’t! We don’t do that.”

Janet is clearly unconvinced. “At any rate, we didn’t dare approach Torchwood. But I knew about you two. I knew that you were friendly with aliens.”

“We don’t go out for drinks with them,” Rose says.

“No. But you opened up the Malandra galaxy.”

The Doctor stills. “You know Deputy Corralin?”

“I know of him. I know that you’re friends with him. I know that he has no fear of you. So I tried to reach you.”

“The horoscopes,” Rose says suddenly. “Mysterious strangers and Chinese restaurants.”

“I can see things happen before they happen, sometimes. If I focused on you two I was able to see a little more clearly.”

“Of course!” the Doctor exclaims. “Use your psychic abilities, see the short-term future for Rose and me, write it up in a horoscope and wait for us to come along.”

“How did you know that we even read the horoscopes?” Rose asks. “Not everybody does.”

Janet shifts in her chair and looks a bit nervous.

“What?” Rose asks.

“I can...see things sometimes. I can’t read minds,” she adds hastily. “Never, not anyone’s mind. But I could tell what interests you had, and once I could focus on something that pertained to me, I was able to work with that.”

“So you wrote horoscopes to follow us to make sure we were the ones you needed.”

“I desperately need your help. This man from our world...I’m afraid it may be too late. Sam is missing.”

 

“So let me get this straight,” Rose says. “Your friend Sam runs a movie studio. He makes science fiction movies, all based on real aliens and events.”

“Yes.”

“He uses friends and family - all of whom are aliens - in his movies.”

“Yes.”

“And he’s disappeared.”

“He was warned to stop broadcasting all this information. People on our home world were unhappy with the idea of our secrets and identity being given to you on Earth.”

“But no one believes it’s real,” Rose says.

“It doesn’t matter. Any attention at all is unwelcome to us as long as we live here, and Sam was getting too famous. He would never do anything to harm himself or put Earth in danger, but the council didn’t feel that way.”

“Who is the council?” the Doctor asks.

“The ruling body on our world. They gave Sam official notice to stop. He didn’t. He thought we were safe here. And then someone else started to threaten him, and now he’s gone, and the rest of us are living in fear.”

They sit in silence for a few moments.

“You think I’m crazy,” Janet finally says.

“Well, your explanation is a bit out there,” the Doctor tells her. “Under normal circumstances we’d have shown you the door, so to speak, ages ago. Luckily for you, we are not normal circumstances.”

“You believe me?” she asks slowly.

“Yeah,” Rose says. “We do.”


	14. Hold my hand I never thought that I’d recover

She’s done it. Made it through another knitting class. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t fun, but it’s over. As everyone files out of the room, heading for home, Rose stays behind.

“All right, Rose?” Anna asks.

Rose starts to help her pack up her things. “Yeah. Fine.”

“You’re getting better,” Anna says encouragingly. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.” Rose knows Anna is just being kind. 

Anna laughs, a nervous kind of laugh. “I’m not.” She maintains her expression for just a few seconds and then loses control. “I’m sorry,” she giggles. “You’re really not that good, are you?”

“No,” Rose says. She’s destroyed entire fleets of Daleks and faced down werewolves and black holes. Not being able to knit tow bits of yarn together is not going to crush her.

“It’s okay.” Anna lifts her bag up and heads for the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” Rose watches her leave and then heads back to her office. She sits at her desk and waits approximately 20 minutes. Then she walks out the front entrance, nodding to the security guard on duty in the lobby.

“Evening, Miss Tyler.”

“Evening, George.”

Rose walks down the street and pauses by the coffee shop that sells the best chocolate biscuits she’s ever tasted. Before she can open the door, someone puts their hand on her arm.

“Hello. You ready?”

Rose turns to look at the Doctor. “How about a snack first?”

He rolls his eyes. “Later. Come on.”

“Dad’s not gonna like us doing this on our own,” Rose warns the Doctor.

“We’re not on our own. At least, we won’t be for long. We’re just doing some preliminary work.”

“At night. Without telling anyone.”

“Let’s live a little, Rose.”

It’s after hours at Torchwood. The building is empty except for the security guard at the front. It’s not George - he’s already gone home and has been replaced by the night shift. Their security passes let them into the building, and once the guard sees who it is, he shrugs and goes back to his crossword puzzle.

“Hi, Hank,” Rose feels compelled to say.

Hank grunts and keeps working his puzzle.

“Come on,” the Doctor mutters. “Don’t give him anything to remember about us.”

Rose allows him to propel her down the hall. “What are you talking about? He knows who we are. He probably thinks we’re on a mission or something.”

“It’s a covert operation tonight, Rose. Let’s keep it simple.” He stops at the lifts and pushes the up button.

“Where are we heading, anyway?” Rose asks. “This mission is so covert you won’t even share it with me.”

“Because we only need one mastermind in this operation.”

“You wish.”

“We’re going to Control.”

“The Control room? For what?”

He looks at her pityingly. “You humans and your tiny brain capacity.”

“You’re human, too.”

“Half-human,” he says. “Never forget that. Control is where all the important stuff is kept. Their computers have records that we can’t get to anywhere else.”

“We should have just asked my dad.”

“Rose, you are seriously disappointing me tonight.” The lift doors open. “Come on, Lewis.”

The Doctor uses his pass to unlock the Control room door. He turns on the lights and scans the room. “That one.” He points to a computer terminal at the far end of the room.

“What’s wrong with one of these?” Rose points to a computer close by. She’s enjoying herself immensely, and feels it’s almost necessary to tease him.

“Farthest from the door. Come on.” 

Rose sits down and turns on the computer. Once the glow from the monitor is lighting their way, the Doctor turns off the overhead lights.

“Too dark,” she complains.

“It’s fine. Here. Where are you?”

“Over here in the blue light,” she says. “Follow my voice.”

“Ah.” He’s back at her side and pulls up an extra chair. “Can you access the search function without logging in?” Rose has been around Torchwood longer than he has, and she’s familiar with the ways of the computers.

“I can from here.” Rose gets to the right screen. “Okay. Now what?”

In that search program is information on every alien Torchwood has ever encountered, as well as any person ever involved. If someone is an alien, or just suspected of being one, their name will be here.

“Type in Sam Lively,” he says slowly.

Rose sits down and types in the name Sam Lively.

“Nothing,” she reports.

“Not at all?”

“Nope.”

“Try Janet Jupiter.”

Rose does, adding in Janet’s real last name when nothing comes up with Jupiter.

“Still nothing,” she says. “What was the name of their planet?”

“Nocklyn.”

“How do you spell that?”

The Doctor thinks for a moment. “No idea.”

They try out various spellings but nothing comes up.

“That’s so strange,” Rose says. “All these aliens, roaming around England in plain sight, and we don’t have anything on file about them. What are the odds of that?”

“Janet said they were trying to keep hidden.”

“Yeah, but usually an alien will do something to make himself stand out eventually. A mistake or something.”

“We don’t know who’s behind the disappearances.”

“It could be anyone on their council. Or someone else entirely.”

“That makes it hard to narrow it down,” the Doctor muses. “We need to talk to Janet again.”

Rose is already dialing on her mobile. “I’ll see if she’s home. No time like the present, right?”

 

They meet Janet at a small pub a few streets away. She’s wearing her black coat but has left the sunglasses at home. Even so, Rose can tell that she’s tried hard not to appear too obvious.

“Hello,” Rose says, sliding into a booth across from her.

“Hi.” Janet looks incredibly nervous. Rose can all but feel the tension in her. 

“Are you okay?”

Janet swallows hard. “Another of my...friends from home has gone missing. We think it was the same man.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He was working with Sam at the movie studio. He wouldn’t agree to stop making movies, either. The council sanctioned him and his family but he kept going. He refused to close the studio when Sam disappeared, and now he’s gone, too.”

“What was his name?” Rose asks gently.

“He called himself Clive. You couldn’t pronounce any of our real names.”

Rose nods. “I’m sorry. We’ll see what we can do.”

The Doctor joins them, carrying a basket of chips and a pitcher of Coke. “Here we go.” He sets the basket down in front of Rose and Janet and slides in beside Rose. “What did I miss?”

“Another of Janet’s friends has gone missing,” Rose says.

“I’m sorry. Who was it?”

“Sam’s partner.”

The Doctor lets out his breath and stares across the room. Rose waits.

“Who do you think is behind this?” he asks Janet. “Do you have any suspicions at all?”

“It could be anyone, Dr. Smith. Anyone here or back on our planet. There are many people who believe that there is no harm in moving to other galaxies, but far more prefer to remain on Nocklyn and leave discovery for other people.”

“How many of you are down here, in London?”

Janet thinks for a moment. “Two hundred, perhaps.”

“Wow,” Rose says. “That’s a lot of aliens.”

“We don’t think of ourselves as aliens,” Janet says. “Just...visitors.”

“Do you know all of them?” the Doctor asks. “Are you friendly with them?”

“I don’t know them all personally. We still try not to get together too much if it’s not necessary. I know that many of them work with Sam, or for him. A lot of him act in his movies.”

This manages to distract the Doctor. “Really? In those science-fiction films? How many of them are aliens?”

“Focus,” Rose says under her breath. “Be a fanboy later.”

“A what?” he says blankly.

“We need to meet the people that Sam works with,” Rose tells Janet. “They might have more information. They might know where he is.”

“Or they might be the ones responsible,” the Doctor adds.

Janet nods. “I can do that. Let me call someone right now.” She pulls a mobile out of her bag and stands up. “Excuse me.”

While they wait for her to return, Rose eats a few chips.

“Do you believe her?” she asks, looking at him.

“Of course. Why would she be lying?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s one who doesn’t want them all exposed.”

“Then why come to us?” he asks. “We’re Torchwood, we’re the last ones any of them want hanging around.”

“Just thinking of all the angles.” Rose pours a glass of Coke for herself, then pours one for him. “Are you thirsty?”

He takes a sip of the drink, shaking his head when she offers him a chip.

“I didn’t really think these movies were so much trouble, Rose,” he says. “I mean, they were very accurate, but I never dreamed there’d be an alien conspiracy brewing.”

She shakes her head. “Life is crazy.”

He stretches his arm along the back of the bench, resting it just behind her shoulders. “So what do you think, Lewis?”

Rose chews on another chip. “I think...we ought to go snooping around.”

“Excellent!” he says enthusiastically. “We haven’t done that in ages. Snoop around where?”

“Well, wherever this Sam bloke was hanging around, yeah? Maybe something will give us a clue. Not like they’ve gone to the police or anything.”

“No, I suppose not.” He brings his arm down around her shoulders, hugging her close to him for a moment.

“What?” Rose asks, glancing his way.

He shakes his head slightly. “Nothing. Just got an odd feeling. Like...like what it would feel like to lose you.”

“Am I going anywhere?”

“No. You’d better not. Just tried to imagine coming home and you being gone. Disappeared.”

Rose looks down at the tabletop. “I’ve already done that, haven’t I?”

He smiles slightly. “I’ve lost you a few times,” he admits. “But you always came back.”

She turns and meets his eyes. “Of course I did,” she says simply. “You couldn’t keep me away from you. No one could.”

“But if someday you didn’t come back...I don’t know what I would do.”

“You would find me, I hope,” she says softly.

He looks at her. “Would you want me to?”

Her mouth opens in astonishment. Before she can reply, Janet is back.

“One of Sam’s assistants said that you can look through his office for any clues that might be around. No one’s gone in since he’s disappeared.”

“Okay,” Rose says, struggling to move past the Doctor’s last statement. “When can we go?”

“Well, the thing is,” Janet pauses. “No one wants to be seen as being involved. We’re all afraid that we’ll be discovered and exposed. But if you’re there, at the studio, looking around, well, that would be all right.”

“You want us to sneak into the studio?” the Doctor asks.

“Well, no. Actually, yes. That’s what it sounds like. But he can tell you himself. He’s on his way here.”

“Hello,” a man says from beside their booth. Rose and the Doctor both jump.

“Hi, Derek.” Janet slides over to make room for him. He’s a tall man with brown hair and blue eyes, fairly average and no one you’d look twice at.

“I’m Derek,” he says quietly, glancing around. “Sam Lively’s personal assistant.”

“How did you get here so quickly?” the Doctor asks. “Janet just called you.”

He looks a little uncomfortable. “I don’t live too far away. And we can move quite quickly when we want to.”

“Alien physiology,” the Doctor says in understanding. “Well, that’s just fascinating. I always like to hear what abilities other-” He stops talking as Rose kicks him on the shin. He clears his throat.

“I’m the Doctor. This is Rose. What did you assist Sam with?”

“His work. I helped him think through plots, deal with the writers and casts, make appointments...”

“He’s a personal assistant,” Janet says. “He assisted.”

“I don’t know what happened. Sam didn’t come into the studio one morning. We were due to start filming a new movie. He never showed up.”

“Did you go looking for him?” the Doctor asks.

“Of course! He wasn’t at his flat, or the office, or anywhere else he normally goes. He’s just gone. And now so is Clive. The studio is still open for now, but I don’t know how much longer we can go on without Sam. He was the lifeblood of the place.”

“Can you get us into his office?” the Doctor asks.

Derek nods. “We all know one another, it’s a small community. You can’t be seen with me or people will get suspicious.”

“We can take care of that,” Rose assures him.

Janet and Derek leave soon after. Rose and the Doctor sit at the booth, hands on the table, looking at the basket of chips between them.

“So,” Rose begins. Her voice cracks a bit, and she’s mortified to realize that she’s very close to thinking about crying.

He sighs. “Rose, I didn’t mean it.”

“You think I’m just gonna get up one day and disappear,” she says softly, staring at the chips and nothing else. “You think if he ever comes back I’ll fly away with him and leave you here.”

“That’s not what I said,” he says, so quietly it’s hard to hear him over the din of the pub.

“No, Doctor? Then what did you say?”

“I’d miss you if you were gone.”

“You asked if I would want you to look for me. Well, let me tell you.” Rose turns her head to look at him. “If I ever disappear, you better look very hard for me. Because I won’t have left you on my own.”

He nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you trust me? Don’t you have any faith in me at all? In us?”

The break in her voice nearly crushes him. He’s never, ever wanted to hurt her, and it seems he does that all the time.

“Rose, please. Of course I do.”

“Then why are you so afraid of my going? I’ve told you I’m staying with you forever.”

“Do you at least understand why I worry? Do you at least understand why I think that way?”

“I do. I do. Do you understand why I worry about you leaving me?”

By the look on his face it’s clear that he’s never given that a thought. “Why would I leave you?” He sounds bewildered.

“To...to roam and travel and see what’s out there!”

“I would rather be dead than leave this life with you.”

She sniffs. “Don’t say that. I’ve seen you die.”

He shrugs. “It’s more serious now that I can’t regenerate. Rose, I will never leave.”

“I won’t leave you,” she counters. “Can we believe each other and drop the entire subject now? It’s getting a bit old, honestly.”

“I’ve seen what’s out there. I prefer what’s right here.” He slides his hand around the back of her neck. “I love you, Rose.”

She closes her eyes for a moment to hide the tears. “I love you, too,” she manages.

He smiles tentatively at her. “Do you want to go home?”

She smiles. “Yeah.”

 

“How did knitting go tonight?” he asks her in bed. They’re lying together in the dark, her head resting on his shoulder. Rose is holding his burned hand in her own, cradling it in her palm.

“Not too bad,” she says. “Still can’t do it at all, but Anna thinks I’m getting better.”

“Are you?”

She chuckles softly. “No. I hate it.” 

“So why do you keep going back?”

“Have you met Anna? She can be pretty scary.”

“Oh, she’s harmless. If you don’t want to knit, then don’t go.” 

“I went tonight so I could hang out in the building. Per your instructions, remember? Make sure the coast was clear.”   
“You did an excellent job of it.”

She thumps him on the chest. “Quit.”

He pretends that it hurts to be polite and brings his free hand up to brush her hair out of her eyes. “I got a call from Sally while you were knitting.”

Rose makes a face. “What’d she say?”

“She has a few more houses for us to look at. She’s emailing us a link to them.”

“We can look at them tomorrow.”

“You sound sleepy,” he observes. “Are you tired?”

“Bit of a long day.”

“Close your eyes,” he tells her. “I’m right here.”

He feels raw and empty inside. Not because of anything Rose has done, but because he’s the reason for the look of worry she gets sometimes. She doesn’t believe that he wants to be with her. How to make her believe that will have to be his mission. He lies awake next to her for most of the night, trying to let her know that even asleep, he’s staying put.

 

It’s eleven o’clock in the morning and things are not going well. They were sent out on a mission to recover an alien artifact from a crash site. Totally routine, totally normal. They’re geared up and are ready to load the artifact and take it back to Torchwood.

As Rose and Jake unearth it, the Doctor snaps pictures of the site with a camera. It’s a nice day out, and they’re in an open field with very little cover.

“Come on,” he urges them. “Before someone comes by and starts asking questions.”

“They’ll figure it out,” Jake says. “Three people all in black, holding guns and cameras?”

“We’ll tell them we’re on a reality show,” Rose suggests. She’s on her knees in the dirt, digging with a small tool to unearth a small glowing object. “I see it!”

The Doctor bends down. “That glowing thing?”

“Looks like a ball.”

“A sphere,” he corrects her absently. “Interesting.”

Jake opens up a containment box. “Ready?”

Rose reaches for it. As she sets it in the box, sparks start to fly and the sphere is enveloped in a bright light. Startled, Rose drops it. The box falls from Jake’s hands. The Doctor drops the camera and dives for the box. The edge of the containment unit hits him in the middle of his injured palm. Swearing, he lets go of the box. Rose tries to catch it and manages to get only half. The sphere falls to the ground, rolls a few feet away, and shatters.

All three of them let out a yell and dive for cover, shielding their heads with their arms.

 

“Well?” a voice asks him from far, far away. “Are you alive or not?”

He groans.

“That sounds alive to me,” the voice says cheerfully.

He cracks his eyes open. “Owen?”

“Dr. Owen Harper. Nice to meet you.” The Torchwood doctor is standing there, looking down at him. He’s in his white lab coat and looks perfectly normal. Only he’s not supposed to be there.

“We’ve met. What happened?”

“Can you tell me your name?”

“I’m the Doctor.” He tries to sit up and is pushed back down.

“Close enough,” Owen says, and shines a light into his eyes. “Do you remember what happened?”

“What happened? We were out in the field. There was a box.”

“Correct.” Owen checks the Doctor’s pulse. “It exploded. We’re working on seeing what happened. No one even knows what it is yet. Luckily another team was nearby. They were able to pick you all up and contain the scene without civilians getting all curious.”

The Doctor is still struggling to figure out what he’s doing there. “They brought us back to Torchwood. Am I injured?”

“Nothing serious.” Own steps back and regards him with satisfaction. “You’re relatively okay. For an alien, anyway.”

“Half-human,” the Doctor corrects him. “Where am I?” He looks around as he asks the question, recognizing the medical wing. He feels sore in spots but it’s nothing major. Nothing at all, really, compared to - 

“Rose?” he asks anxiously. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine. She’ll be better once the blindness wears off.”

The Doctor feels, quite simply, like his stomach has dropped out of his body. “What?” he whispers.

“Temporary blindness. Jake is suffering the same effects. You must have looked away in time.”

The Doctor shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to. I...Where’s Rose?”

Rose is lying in bed in a small white room in the medical wing. The medical personnel he passes on the way there all shoot quick looks at him, like they know something he doesn’t. He enters the room slowly, looking around. There are machines standing next to Rose, some of them beeping, but none of them look too sinister. He looks at her, lying helpless, and his heart lurches.

He moves to the side of the bed, wanting to touch her but afraid to. “Rose?” he whispers.

She turns her head and smiles. “Hello.”

She looks so pale lying there, her face bleached of color. There are bandages over her eyes, meant to promote faster healing, he was told.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you joking?”

“Sorry. Are you in pain?”

“No. I think they gave me something for that. My dad was just here. He sounded upset.” Rose doesn’t mention that Pete was nearly in tears.

“Your mum will be here as soon as she hears,” he says.

She makes a face. “Just what I need right now, yeah?”

He reaches out and gently touches her face. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really. Just can’t see.”

“If I hadn’t dropped it,” he says, “this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Remember that talk we had?” she asks him. “About you not getting that guilt complex every time something happens? The world is not your responsibility anymore.”

“No. But you are.”

“I’m fine.”

He traces her cheek with a fingertip. “I’m not.”

 

He stays beside her bed all that night and into the next morning. He managed to sneak away for a few moments to check on Jake, who was recovering his vision and was eager to go home and rest by himself.

Later that morning Owen removes the bandages from Rose’s eyes. She blinks in the light and looks around.

“Doctor?”

“I’m here, Rose.”

“What do you see?” Owen shines a light into her eyes.

“Some light. Not very bright.”

“Anything else?” Owen asks.

She’s blinking and frowning, trying to force her eyes into focus.

“Don’t try too hard,” Owen says. “Give it a minute.”

Beside the bed the Doctor waits, heart frozen, lungs refusing to work. He’s holding her hand very tightly.

Finally Rose looks surprised. Turning her head, she meets the Doctor’s eyes. “I can see you,” she tells him. “You look awful.”

He laughs and hugs her tightly, hiding his face against her hair so they can’t see the sudden tears in his eyes.


	15. And as he spoke he spoke ordinary words although they did not feel

“I’m fine,” Rose says again. “Honestly, what is wrong with you people?” She looks up at all the people clustered around her bed. Pete, Owen Harper, Ian, the Doctor. All she needs is her mum to walk in to make this complete.

“Owen says you need another day here,” Pete says firmly. “I agree.”

“Dad, I can go right home and rest.”

“She won’t rest,” the Doctor says. “She’ll try to read or watch tv or drive herself crazy. You know she can’t stay still for very long.”

She glares at him for this lack of loyalty. “Look who’s talking.”

“Just another day,” Owen says reassuringly.

“Jake went home!” she protests. “You let him walk right out.”

“Simon took him home,” Pete says. “And is staying for a while to make sure he’s okay.”   
“Jake didn’t lose his eyesight for as long,” Owen tells her. “We’ll keep an eye on you for another day, then you can go home.”

“Dad,” Rose says, trying again. Pete shakes his head. “Sorry, Rose. Tomorrow. I’ll come by and see you later.”

“Bye,” she says sulkily as he walks out.

“Cheer up, Rose,” Ian says. “It could be worse. You could have lost your eyesight forever.”

“Yes, Ian, thank you for that heartening thought.” The Doctor shoots him a dirty look. “No need to upset her.”

“Who’s upsetting her?” Ian wants to know. “Anyway, Rose, you’re fine and I’m happy to see it. I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks for coming by, Ian,” Rose says. She’s lying in a hospital bed in the middle of Torchwood, but she does remember her manners.

“You’re getting awfully testy about this,” the Doctor observes when he and Owen are the only ones left. “It’s a good thing you’re not sick very often.”

“I’m not testy.”

Rose would deny it, but she has a serious pout on her face. The Doctor smiles and kisses her. “You’re fine.”

“I _know!_ So why can’t I go home?”

“Soon,” he promises her.

“All right,” Owen says briskly. “Your turn, Dr. Smith.”

The Doctor turns to look at him. “Sorry? My turn for what?”

“Let me look at your hand. You shouldn’t have been out there with them. You’ll get an infection and we’ll have to cut it off.”

Rose laughs. “Again?”

“That’s not mean to be funny,” Owen tells her. “Come on, Dr. Smith.”

“I’ll be back,” the Doctor promises Rose. She nods. “I know. Take care of your hand.”

“Have a seat.” Owen gestures to a chair in one of the small exam rooms down the hall. “I just want to wash it out and rewrap it.”

The Doctor holds out his hand, resting his arm on the exam table beside him.

“How does it feel?”

“A bit better. Still painful, of course. I may have done some damage yesterday, trying to get to Rose and Jake.”

“You think?” Owen murmurs. He removes bandages that are stained and dirty. “You broke some blisters. You’ll be lucky if they don’t get infected.”

“Thanks for that hopeful thought.”

“Anytime,” Owen says absently. He goes to the door. “Maggie!” he calls to his medical tech. “Bring me supplies!” 

Maggie brings him the cleansers and wraps he wants, and Owen sets about cleaning the Doctor’s hand.

“I’m rather attached to this hand,” the Doctor says. Now that he knows Rose is all right he feels remarkably relaxed. Even the pain of cleaning a burn and blisters is pleasant. “I lost my first hand just hours after I turned into the new old me. Had it cut off in a sword fight. Came across it a year or so later. Lucky I did, because I was able to funnel some regeneration energy into it, and that spare hand helped form into me. And here I am.”

Owen and his tech exchange a long look. “Did you hit your head yesterday?” Owen asks, looking at him closely. He picks up a light and shines it into the Doctor’s eyes. Beside him the tech watches the Doctor warily.

“I’m fine,” the Doctor assures him.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re fine to me. Sounds like you’ve got concussion.”

“What, because of what happened to my hand? I saved all of Earth that day. Well, both days. And many times before that, actually.”

“You’ve got a superhero complex or something.” Owen finishes cleaning up and dumps the old bandages into a basin that Maggie holds out for him. “Here. This is something we’ve been developing upstairs.” Owen unwraps a package of long fabric. “It’ll keep your bandages clean.” The fabric forms into a fingerless glove. He slowly slides it over the Doctor’s hand, settling it over the thick bandages he’s wrapped around the burn. The glove covers his palm entirely at the base of his fingers and reaches to his wrist. The color seems to fade and then blend in with the Doctor’s skin.

“What is that?” he asks, curious. You can barely tell that there’s a bandage there at all.

“Alien tech,” Owen says briefly. “It’ll help keep it all clean and dry. Take it off at night. Let the hand breathe at night, don’t forget that. Put on this cream to keep infection away.”

“Thanks, Owen.”

“You want to thank me? Stop talking about growing body parts or I’ll have to section you.”

The Doctor is on his way back to Rose when his mobile rings.

“Hello?”

“This is Derek. Sam Lively’s assistant.”

“Yes! Hello, Derek. Have you heard anything?”

“No. Have you?”

“No, sorry.” The Doctor feels bad at the anxiety in the other man’s voice. “We had an incident yesterday and I wasn’t able to look into Sam’s disappearance.”

“Okay, listen, Dr. Smith. We’re about to start shooting a new movie here. The studio heads want us to go ahead without Sam and Clive. We lose money otherwise. Most of the cast and crew are going on location to film the first shots.”

“That sounds nice,” the Doctor says politely.

“There won’t be as many people here in the studio. I can’t be seen with you, and if you’re caught you’re on your own. But I can leave Sam’s office unlocked and you can come in and look around.”

The Doctor considers this. “All right. When will everyone be gone?”

“They’re all leaving now. I’ll be with them. Come by in about an hour, and you should be safe.”

“Thanks.”

The Doctor hangs up with David and returns to Rose’s room. Sitting beside her, he holds her hands and watches her watch him as he tells her what David said.

“Go,” Rose says.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he starts.

She smiles at him. “Thanks. I know. But this is important. Come back and tell me about it.”

“Oh, Rose, of course I’ll come back.”

He hasn’t left her bedside since she came back to Torchwood. Rose smiles again.

“I’m all right for now. Why don’t you go home and change your clothes before you go to the studio?”

The Doctor looks down at his clothes. He hasn’t changed or showered since the day before. 

“Maybe I’d better.”

She nods. “Yes, you’d better.”

“Are you sure?” 

“My mum is coming by. I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He leans over and kisses her, staring hard into eyes that he’d been worried would never look back at him again. So much scarier, in a way, than realizing she’d lost her entire face. Then he’d been able to confront the Wire and restore Rose back to her perfect condition. He was powerless here to restore her vision, and that was hard to deal with.

 

He stops at their flat to shower, taking care of his hand even though Owen assured him the bandage was waterproof. He changes into khaki trousers and a white shirt. After a few moments’ debate with himself, he adds a tie. He doesn’t know what a person walking around a movie studio should look like, but he thinks it’s better to be over dressed than not.

He drives to the address Derek gave him over the phone, having a moment of panic when he sees the security guard at the parking lot.

“Can I help you?” the guard asks.

The Doctor thinks a few unkind thoughts about Derek. He had not mentioned an armed guard perched at the entrance to the studio. “I have a meeting with someone,” the Doctor says. “Over there in that building. Can I park here?”

Either the security guard doesn’t care or privacy is not an issue here. He shrugs. “Anywhere is fine.”

“Thanks.”

The Doctor parks and walks into the main building. A sign on the door announces that it’s the Sam Lively Production Studios. The logo below the name is of an old-fashioned movie camera. He’s seen it so many times, at the start and end of movies, that he’s surprised it took him so long to notice the name. He’s usually more observant.

A young woman sits at the reception desk. She has blonde hair swept back in a ponytail and a phone headset on her head. She’s chewing gum and reading a magazine. She looks up and sighs when he walks in.

“Can I help you?”

The Doctor clears his throat. “Sam Lively?”

She holds his gaze, eyes squinted almost shut. He has the oddest impression that she’s taking his measure. Not for the first time, he wishes he had the psychic paper.

“Mr. Lively is out of the studio at the moment,” she tells him, setting the magazine down.

“Oh, that’s all right,” he says quickly, not wanting to alarm her. “Is his assistant around? Derek something? He’s the one I need to see.”

She relaxes, barely noticeably, but the Doctor takes note. “He should be in his office. Down the hall and to the left.”

“Thanks.”

He finds Derek’s office and glances in. It’s empty. He doesn’t know anything about movie studios, but the place does seem oddly quiet. Taking note of Derek’s name on the door, he goes further down the hall, looking for Sam Lively’s office.

Ah, right here. The door is almost, but not quite, closed. Easing through it, he steps inside, closes the door behind him, and turns on the light.

It’s a large office, painted a pale blue. There are movie posters on the wall, and a row of statues sit upon a shelf next to the window. He recognizes them as Spocks, the science-fiction industry’s award for movies.

Moving to the desk, which is covered with papers, he opens up the drawers. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for - aliens in this universe may be totally different from what he’s seen. It’s happened before. A note proclaiming responsibility for Sam’s disappearance would be nice, but he knows it probably won’t happen.

On the desk is a picture of a man in his forties, with dark hair and an engaging smile. He assumes this is Sam. Most human females would probably find him attractive. As he reaches for the picture frame his arm knocks something off of the desk. He steps back and looks around the floor. A small model of the Earth is rolling around on the carpet. He kneels down to catch it and it rolls away under the desk. He reaches for it before it rolls too much farther away.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It is the voice, not the question, that makes his head jerk up. “Ow!” His head has hit the underside of the desk. Rubbing it, he slowly backs out from under the desk, stands up, and looks around.

A woman is standing there, in a dark green business suit. She’s holding a stack of file folders and is tapping her foot, waiting for his answer.

She has long red hair, and he can’t help the slow smile that is spreading across his face.

“I’m waiting,” she says. “What are you doing?”

The Doctor is grinning like an idiot and doesn’t care. “Hello!”

“Hello. What are you doing here?” she asks again.

“What am I...doing here?” he repeats.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” She spaces each word slowly, as though she were speaking to someone very slow. “You don’t belong in this office. Who let you in here?”

He can barely focus, can barely concentrate. It’s Donna, right here in front of him, looking exactly the same as before.

Well. She’s not his Donna, not the one he left behind. This is a different Donna, one with her own life and own story and one who doesn’t know him at all.

But he still can’t stop smiling. It’s so good to see her, and he’s surprised at how much he’s missed her.

“I’m getting security,” she says. “If you’re still here when they get here it’s your own fault.” She moves back to the door and the Doctor snaps back to reality.

“No, wait!” He lunges after her. “Donna, just a -”

She spins around, holding the files in front of her like a shield.

“How do you know my name?” she demands.

“Er...someone mentioned it on the way in?” His voice goes up hopefully.

She narrows her eyes. “I don’t know who you are, but you have three seconds to _leave_!”

“Donna, listen to me, just listen -”

“I’m calling security!”

“I followed you to ask for your phone number!” he says in desperation.

“My what?” she asks incredulously.

“Your number. Telephone number. To...to see if you’d fancy a drink.” He tries not to wince as he says the words.

“Do I fancy a drink? What makes you think I would?”

“I don’t! I don’t know! I thought...if you were free...”

“If I were free? Do I look single to you?” she demands.

“No, no, you - blimey, you’re in a bad mood today, aren’t you?”

Her eyes widen. “Security!” she calls. “Security!”

“No!” He leaps forward. “Please! I just need your help! Just answer a question for me! That’s all!”

She stares at him for a long moment. “All right. Just five minutes. And _then_ I’m calling security.”

 

She’s allowed him to sit down with her at the commissary. It’s empty except for them and the woman behind the counter, who’s currently perched on a stool reading a magazine and smoking.

“All right,” she says briskly. “Here’s my watch. I’m counting down. Now tell me what you were doing in there.”

Instead of answering her, he’s smiling at her, a loopy kind of smile that makes her suspect he’s not all there in the head.

“What’d you say your name was?” she asks.

“I’m the Doctor.” He’s surprised she has to ask.

She simply looks at him, waiting. He recovers quickly. “Yes. John Smith. Dr. John Smith.” Even after so long, the name feels strange on his tongue.

“What are you a doctor of?”

“Things. Stuff. Things and...stuff. You know. But you, Donna Noble! What are you doing her?” He beams at her.

Donna shift nervously in her seat. “How do you know my name?”

“Oh, it’s not important. You’d never believe it. But you’re still Donna Noble, then? Not married or anything?”

She shakes her head. “Was engaged. A few years back now. My fiance died when the Cybermen attacked.”

He winces. “I’m sorry.”

She nods in acknowledgement. “His name was Lance.”

“Lance,” he repeats. “Well.” Rose may accuse him of being insensitive sometimes, but even he knows better than to tell her she’s probably better off without him.

“I’m a script editor,” she says, answering his question only to change the subject. “Started out temping and they kept me on here.”

“What’s your job? What’s a script editor?”

“I read the movie scripts. Make sure they make sense. Mind you, it’s all aliens and body snatchers, so I never know what’s supposed to make sense or not. But Mr. Lively likes me.”

“Lively?” the Doctor repeats swiftly. “As in Sam Lively?”

“Yeah. Do you know him?”

“I’m trying to meet him. D’you think you could help me?”

She slaps the table and stands up. “Of course. Another writer with a screenplay that’s gonna be a hit, if it could only be seen by the right person.”

“No, I don’t have a screenplay.”

“They all have screenplays. Full of aliens and bodysnatchers and time travel. Sorry, spaceman.”

“Donna, wait! I don’t have a screenplay. Honestly. I’m just looking for Mr. Lively.”

“Make an appointment,” she tells him, and walks away.

He sits at the table by himself for a long time.

 

Jackie calls him on his mobile. He answers it absently as he’s driving home. As soon as he hears Jackie’s voice he curses to himself. He’s driving to the flat instead of to Torchwood, where Rose is. Jackie’s words have him remaining on his current route.

“Are you there, Doctor? Can you hear me?”

He rolls up the windows in the car. “Yes, Jackie. Hello.”

“I’m bringing Rose home. She didn’t want to stay there another night. Are you coming home?”

“I’m on my way,” he says, even though it’s too early to leave work for the day.

“I’ll wait ‘til you get here, then, but then I have to go. Tony has a school play this afternoon.”

He smiles at the thought. “I’m sorry we’ll miss it. Tell Rose I’ll be home soon.”

Rose has her own ideas about who should be taking care of her. When he gets home Jackie has already left, and Rose is in the kitchen, chopping something up with a long sharp knife.

“Rose?” He walks into the room, stunned to see her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making dinner,” she says. “Is it that big a surprise?”

It’s not, really. She’s cooked since she was small, and she’s very good at it. “It’s only a surprise because you’re supposed to be resting.” He walks over to her and frames her face in his hands. “Your eyes look good.”

“I can see just fine. I passed all of Owen’s tests and everything.”

He slides his hands down to her back and draws her close for a hug, ignoring the knife that’s trapped between them. “Where’s Jackie?”

“I sent her home. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You were hurt. We just need to be careful.”

“Well, I’m fine.” She goes back to chopping up vegetables. He sits down at the table and stares at the wall.

Rose lets him sit silently for a few minutes. Something is wrong, and he’ll tell her when he’s ready.

The vegetables are all chopped and Rose is losing patience. Leaving the chicken wrapped up for now, she sets the knife down and turns around to face him.

“Love?”

He looks up from his contemplation of the floor. “Yes, Rose?”

“What is it? Did you find something out at the movie studio?”

A look of pain and confusion crosses his face, and Rose feels an irrational stab of fear. Forcing it down, she turns and starts chopping the vegetables into even smaller pieces. 

“I saw Donna today,” he says.

“Oh? That’s good.” Rose hears what he’s said and drops the knife. Turning back around, she looks at him from across the kitchen. “Donna. Donna Noble?”

“Yes, Donna Noble. Who else?”

“Well, is it, is it our Donna? I mean, it can’t be. Can it?” Her voice rises in uncertainty, and he understands what she thinks happened. Donna Noble survived the genetic meta-crisis, survived having a Time Lord brain within a human body. And came to this world with someone else.

The someone else being himself, of course.

Well, the other him. Not that he’s a duplicate in any way. He’s clearly his own distinct, separate person, totally different from that other Doctor.

The Doctor that Rose thinks has returned. It’s like a knife in the gut to even think about it.

Still.

But...

Even if it did ever happen...

Well. It’s not going to happen, is it? Not ever.

“It’s not our Donna,” he says firmly. “It’s the Donna who belongs here. She works for Sam Lively.”

She nods, as though he’s just confirmed something she already knows. “I didn’t think he’d come back.”

“What, you don’t think he’d want to pop in, see how things are going?” 

“That’s probably the last thing he’ll ever want to do. Isn’t it?” She’s not accusing him, she’s simply stating a fact. One that they both know already.

“No, he won’t come back of his own free will. I’m sorry.”

She gets that exasperated look she gets with him sometimes. “Why are you being sorry? He won’t come back. That’s okay. We don’t need him.”

_That’s_ something he didn’t know. “We don’t need him?”

“Of course not.” Rose can’t believe she even has to say it. “We’re here together. He’d just muck it up, wouldn’t he?”

He shakes his head. “Oh, Rose.”

She leans down and hugs him, right where’s he’s sitting. “Don’t ever think that again,” she whispers in his ear. “I wouldn’t go with him for all the planets in the universe.”

“All the tea in China?”

“Definitely not.”

“All the Vitex on Earth?”

“Oh, never.”

“All the chips you can eat?”

She stops to think about that one and he glares at her. She giggles. 

“Not even for chips,” she says solemnly. “But it might be a hard decision to make.”

He pulls her down on to his lap. “So it’s not our Donna from home,” he says. “But it is Donna.” 

“Really,” Rose says thoughtfully. “Who would have thought?”

“It is a bit strange,” he admits. “She was a temp, before. Now she’s a story editor.”

“Yeah? What’s that do?” Rose stands up and moves to the chicken to cut it up. 

“She reads movie scripts. Edits them or make sure they make sense, or something.”

“For Sam Lively.”

The musing note in her voice makes him look at her. “Rose?”

She’s standing still, holding up her knife. “We’re looking for Sam, right?”

“And Clive.”

“Clive. Did you look for him at all?”

He clears his throat. “I may have forgotten, what with Donna showing up.”

“Understandable. If we can befriend Donna, maybe we could have an in at the studio and look around for real. With a purpose.”

He looks troubled. “I’m not looking to use her, Rose.”

“I’m not saying we use her, love. I’m saying if we explain to her what’s going on, maybe she’ll help us.”

“Rose.” He gives her that look again, the one that says she’s just a sad little human who doesn’t understand anything. “I should tell her that we’re from a parallel universe and that I was created from her counterpart there and we need help tracking down her boss, who is an alien in disguise?”

“Well, of course I don’t mean telling her that. Not all at once.”

“Not all at once - not ever!”

“We’ve told people before.”

“People at work. People who know about aliens. People who know aliens are real and aren’t just some movie construct.”

“But she could help us,” Rose says patiently. 

“We can ask for her help without telling her what’s happening. If her boss is missing she’ll cooperate.”

“Or call the police.”

He slumps in his chair. “Bloody hell.”

“Love?” Rose asks. Something is wrong, and while she thinks she knows what it is, he’s acting a bit out of character here.

He looks troubled. “Everything that happened to Donna in our world. You asked her to die to fix the world. She lost her memories because she couldn’t live with them in her head. That’s assuming that she survived at all. It’s not fair to drag this world’s Donna in on something like this.”

Rose’s heart breaks a little. He’s never stopped missing Donna. She was his good friend, and she’s gone. Knowing that Rose was still alive in this world had made it bearable while they were apart. Knowing that Donna has no memory of him is so painful.

“You met her for a reason. Maybe we’re supposed to let her help us.”

“I don’t know that I can, Rose.”

She frames his face in her hands and smiles down at him. “Yes,” she tells him. “You can.”

Her faith in him is astounding. That she thinks he can do whatever he has to, that he can save the world whenever it needs saving, that he can love her when he’s lost himself and his world and his entire existence.

“All right,” he says as she kisses him. “I’ll ask her.”


	16. For I felt what I had not felt before And you’d swear those words could heal

“Are you ready yet?” Rose calls from the bedroom.

“Almost!” he yells back. Taking another swipe at his hair, he decides it will do. Although maybe a spot more hair gel, just to-

“Come on, already!” Rose is at the door, looking rather annoyed.

“Just coming now,” he says, smiling at her.

“Liar.” She lets him move past her into the bedroom. “You’d fuss with your hair all day if I let you.”

“Please, Rose Tyler.” He looks at her critically. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Really, though, is it?”

She flings a small stuffed rabbit at him. “Let’s go.”

Dinner with Jackie and Pete tonight. This is an almost weekly event, and neither of them dreads it. Some weeks are more fun than others. Weeks when Jackie and Pete have been arguing about something are no fun at all, but infrequent.

The Doctor pulls up in Rose’s sleek black car and parks in front of the house. 

“This is just because Pete’s from his business trip, isn’t it?” he asks Rose. “They’re not going to spring someone or something on us, are they?”

“Mum just wants us for dinner. To welcome Dad back.”

“He was only gone for two days.” Taking Rose’s hand, he starts for the house. 

Jackie greets them the instant they walk in. “Hello!” She hugs Rose tight. 

“Hi, Mum.”

Jackie lets go of Rose and hugs the Doctor. He allows this and even hugs her back. 

“How are you?” Jackie asks her daughter.

“My eyesight is just fine.”

“Lovely. And you, Doctor? How’s your hand?”

“Fine, thanks. Is that a new blouse?”

Jackie looks down at her blouse and rolls her eyes. “‘Course not, you’ve seen this a thousand times.”

“I doubt that,” he says. Jackie shops for clothes the way normal people shop for groceries.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Jackie says. “Come on inside.”

“Hi!” Tony says, running into the hallway. “Hi, Rose! Look what Dad brought me.” 

“Hello, love.” Rose bends down to give him a hug. “What have you got, Tony?”

Tony holds up a small metal device that looks vaguely like a metal flashlight.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a camera. Look!” He twists the little flashlight and a small column of light appears, surprising Rose and the Doctor.

“Try the other setting,” Jackie says, and Tony twists it the other way. Into the column appears a picture of Jackie.

“How’d you do that?” Rose asks, puzzled.

“It’s a camera!” Tony says again. “It’s like a little tv set.”

“How’s it retaining that image?” the Doctor asks. He reaches out to touch the image. He hand passes right through it.

“It’s some sort of recorder,” Jackie explains. “Apparently it’s going to be the next big thing. You can record anything you want and then watch it later. Pictures, video, all sorts of things.”

The dining room table is set with Jackie’s best china and crystal. Candles are lit down the middle and the lights are dimmed.

“What’s going on?” Rose asks her mother. This is not the usual Saturday night dinner.

Jackie shrugs. “Just felt like being fancy. Your dad just came home.”

“Yeah, but he was only gone two days,” Rose says.

“Stop it. Sit down, then. Pete will be down in a minute.” Jackie takes her usual seat and waits for them to be seated. Rose and the Doctor take their usual seats.

“Look, John,” Tony says. “I’ll take your picture.”

“You can call me Doctor,” he says, trying once more to make Tony call him by his proper name.

But Tony is still having issues with his previous doctor experience. He frowns. “Your name is John. Not Doctor.”

“It is Doctor,” the Doctor insists. “And I’m not the kind of doctor who’ll prick you with a needle, so it’s okay to say it.”

“No,” Tony says stubbornly.

The Doctor is prepared to pursue this, but Rose puts her hand on his arm. “Just smile.”

“Hello,” Pete says, coming into the room.

“Welcome back,” Rose says with a smile. “We were just admiring Tony’s new toy.”

“A bit much for a small boy,” Pete admits, “but I thought he’d enjoy playing with it.”

“Are we all ready?” Jackie asks. “Here, where’s Marie?”

“Who’s Marie?” Rose asks.

“The new maid. Lucy went off to get married, and Helen is on holiday.” Jackie looks around as a young woman in a black dress enters the room. “There you are.”

“Are you ready to be served, Mrs. Tyler?”

“Yes.” Jackie waves a hand. “Go on.”

Nothing amazes Rose more sometimes than the fact that her mum - her _mum_ \- is in charge of this house. In charge of the money and the servants and everything else that comes with it. Jackie has taken to it like she was born to it, and Pete is happy to let her.

Rose doesn’t mind because her mother is clearly so very happy. It’s uncomfortable to sit while someone else serves her, though. It’s one thing she can’t get used to.

The Doctor, going through so many places and time periods in his long life, adapts to any situation, as easy as you please. 

Maybe being made human hasn’t been the easiest adaptation, but he is trying.

Once dinner is served and Marie is gone, the conversation digresses into ordinary family talk. Jackie is still concerned about Rose’s eyesight, even though Rose says, repeatedly, that she is fine.

“Really, Mum. There’s nothing wrong.”

“Your eyes look strained,” Jackie insists. “Are you squinting? You’re much too young to have lines round your eyes.”

“Mum-”

“She was having a hard time in the grocery today,” the Doctor volunteers. “Kept staring at the jars like she couldn’t see them.”

“That’s called comparing,” Rose says in annoyance.

He smiles at her. 

“Tony, put that recorder away,” Pete says after Tony has taken yet another image of his father eating a forkful of pasta and vegetables.

“But it’s fun, Dad.”

“You can play with it afterwards,” Jackie says. “Now eat your dinner.”

“How is your research coming along on that alien rock?” Pete asks the Doctor.

The Doctor looks up, caught by surprise. His mind hasn’t been on that alien rock lately. 

“It’s...coming along,” he says slowly, stalling as he thinks of something to say. “Anna’s going to run a few more tests on it.”

“Any ideas?”

“Not so far.”

Rose clears her throat. He carefully does not look in her direction. They can’t seem to agree whether letting Pete in on the whole Sam Lively thing is a good idea.

“Although,” he continues, “there may be something else coming up that I may be looking in to. Possibly.”

Now he has Jackie’s attention along with Pete’s.

“What’s that?” Pete asks.

“Nothing concrete yet,” the Doctor hastens to say. “Just some rumors going about that a few aliens may be hiding here in Great Britain.”

“Hiding?” Jackie says in slight alarm. “What for?”

“Oh, they don’t want to do anything,” he hastens to assure her. “They’re just...living. Living out their lives.”

Pete frowns. “Aliens.”

“Possible aliens. Just rumors, really. Something we’ll be looking into sometime soon.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Rose says. 

“Probably,” he agrees, and hopes he hasn’t overplayed his casualness.

“Well, keep me informed,” Pete says.

“Now that that’s all taken care of,” Jackie says cheerfully, laying down her fork, “what’s with the houses? Have you found anything yet?”

“Uh, no,” Rose says, trying to think of how to explain what they’ve been doing without alarming and upsetting everyone there. “We’ll be looking at some more early next week.”

“Ooh, with Sally Marshall?”

Rose winces. “Yeah. We’re not sure about her, though. She’s acting very strange.”

“She’s the top producer in London. She’s bound to be a bit eccentric.”

Sally’s been more than eccentric, in Rose’s opinion, but she lets it go for now so that her mother won’t go on and on about it.

“Looking for a house is a nice normal thing to do,” Jackie says, laying down her fork. Rose’s heart skips a beat. What is Jackie up to?

“Yes,” she agrees cautiously. “That’s us. Nice and normal.”

“As normal as can be,” the Doctor states cheerfully. “This is a great cream sauce, eh, Pete?”

“I prefer a tomato base, myself,” Pete says.

“Oh, but then you miss out on -” The Doctor is interrupted by Jackie Tyler.

“Since you’re all normal and human now,” Jackie begins.

“Oi, _half_ \- human.”

“Stop with your silly ‘half’-ing,” Rose tells him impatiently. “We get it.”

“Just so we’re clear,” he mutters.

“And since you’re here forever,” Jackie continues, “tell me, Doctor: are you ever gonna settle down?”

“What do you mean? I live in a box with windows and carpets! What more could I do to prove my commitment to my humanness? Humanity. Human being-ness.”

“Prove your commitment to Rose,” Jackie shoots back, so fast that it’s clearly been on her mind for at least the last several years.

Silence.

Jackie waits.

Rose cannot believe her mother just said that.

Pete affects a look of polite interest and tries to act uninvolved. Where Rose is concerned Jackie holds all the cards, and he’s not going to interfere with this.

The Doctor only stares at them all, confused. What’s he been doing, if not proving his commitment to Rose? Need he remind them of the various ways he’s saved them and/or the world-slash-universe?

“Mum, please.”

The annoyance on Jackie’s face, and the mortification on Rose’s, gradually leads him to the realization that he’s missing something. Something big.

Oh.

_Oh._

_Oh._

“Do you mean, a, commitment?” It’s rather hard to even speak the word.

“To Rose,” Pete puts in, finally taking pity on him.

“Yes. Well.” What does he say to this? In front of Pete and Jackie and Tony, and possibly the maids listening behind the door? Helpless, he looks at Rose.

She correctly interprets the look as a plea for assistance, not a way to avoid the question.

“Leave him,” Rose says. “That’s our business.”

“It’s not just your business,” Jackie corrects her. “We’re a family now.”

And just like that, he’s caught. He’s spent so many years alone, longing for a family. He had to lose all of what made him him, but he’s gained another one now. 

“As to that,” he starts, but Rose cuts him off. “That’s enough,” she says clearly, and just a little angrily. 

“I’m only asking a question,” Jackie protests.

“That’s our business,” Rose says firmly. “Just ours right now.” She lays down her napkin. “Tony. Come show us your new toy.”

 

Two days later Rose is still fuming over her mother’s words. Prove his commitment to her! As if she needs a commitment! As if they’re just an ordinary couple, living together, in love, planning to buy a house...Rose’s train of thought trails off. He didn’t even defend himself. He let Rose end the conversation and then he went out to play with Tony and never mentioned the subject again.

How could he not mention it? At all? All that night, after they left her parents’ and went to a movie, holding hands and whispering over a tub of popcorn. Or on the way home, with music softly playing in the car and Rose trying not to fall asleep? The next morning when he insisted they go for a brisk jog and then out to lunch?

What is wrong with him?

What’s wrong with her?

“You’re chewing your nails,” Riley says, and Rose is jerked out of her thoughts.

“Sorry. What?”

“You’re chewing on your nails. Nasty habit. Stop it.” 

They’re in the infamous Torchwood cafeteria, sharing a tea break before starting the day. Riley is leafing through a magazine.

“I wasn’t chewing my nails.”

“Sure you weren’t. What’s going on?”

“It’s the Doctor. He’s...” Rose trails off. He’s what, exactly? What has he done that’s so wrong, exactly?

“He’s a man,” Riley says, answering her unspoken question. “That’s all I need to know. Give him some time and then tell him how and why he’s wrong.”

“Who’s wrong?” The Doctor asks.

Rose looks up. He’s standing next to their table, dressed for work in dark trousers and another of his blue shirts. Rose used to tease him about his habit-forming clothing. First jumpers and black leather, then brown pinstriped suits and trainers. This new version appears to be stuck on the color blue. Thankfully, it’s a normal blue, not the shocking brightness of the suit he was wearing when they first landed back on this planet. Dark blue, light blue, medium blue. He’s found something that works and he’s not going to bother with much else.

“Nothing is wrong,” Riley says, gathering her mug and magazine and standing up. “See you later.”

“I’m going to see Donna today,” the Doctor says, taking Riley’s seat. “Right now, actually.”

Rose’s worries disappear in the face of her concern for him. “Are you sure?”

“I won’t tell her everything. Well, probably not. At least not right away. I’ll just find out what she knows about Sam Lively and his disappearing act.”

“Do you want me to come along?” she offers.

He hesitates but shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

 

So he’s once again taken the coward’s way out. There is time enough to talk to Rose - _not time enough, there will never be time enough -_ and they can come to an understanding. But right now there is Donna, and he can’t think about anything else with this coming up so soon.

Donna was his friend and he’s part of her, and even though this Donna is not that Donna, it’s still hard to look her in the eye without telling her how much he misses her.

Driving up to the movie studio, he parks the car and walks to the door. He pauses, hand on the doorknob, and takes a deep breath.

Okay. He can do this. Stepping up to the reception desk, he braces himself and clears his throat.

The receptionist looks up. “Yes?”

“John Smith. I’ve an appointment with Sam Lively.”

“Mr. Lively isn’t here at the moment.”

“We had an appointment,” he says. A lie, obviously, and rather a big one, but sometimes you have no choice.

“I’m sorry,” the receptionist says apologetically. “Perhaps Mr. Lively forgot.”

“Fine,” the Doctor says with an air of impatience. “Where’s Clive?”

“He’s not here either.”

“Is there someone around who might be able to help?” he asks. “Sam’s assistant Derek? Or... Donna Noble, perhaps? She was helpful last time I was here.”

She picks up her phone and dials a number. “Someone to see you, Ms. Noble. He says he had an appointment with Mr. Lively and would like to see you instead.” She sets the phone down. “She’ll be up in a bit.”

He stands where he is, hands in his pockets. he an feel his single heart beating rather quickly. He’s still not sure this will work. He’s still not sure what he’ll do if it doesn’t work. Footsteps bring his attention back to the hallway.

It’s Donna, dressed in a black suit with her hair down around her shoulders. She comes to a dead stop when she sees him.

“Oh, not you.”

“Hello!” he says cheerfully. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“No,” she says shortly. “Mary Beth, call security.”

“There’s no need to go that far, Donna, honestly.”

“Ms. Noble to you,” she says frostily. “There is nothing more you could possibly have to say to me that I would care about.”

He glance sat the receptionist and steps close to Donna. “Look, about last time... well, forget all that I said about, about phone numbers and screenplays. I haven’t got a screenplay.”

She folds her arms. “But you are still looking for Sam Lively.”

“Aren’t you?”

He’s caught her off guard and she blinks. “Why would I be looking for him?”

“He’s gone missing.”

Alarm flashes in her eyes. “Where did you hear that?”

“A friend of his told me.”

“A friend of Sam’s? What’s his name?”

“Her. Her name, actually.”

“Her? A woman?” Donna’s voice changes a bit, and he recognizes the tone, even though this isn’t the Donna he used to travel with. She’s trying to hide something.

“Doesn’t Sam have women friends?” he asks innocently.

“Of course he does. I mean, I don’t know. But he’s allowed to,” she trails off.

He’s confused. Could this Donna have a thing for Sam Lively? Her alien boss? Even if she doesn’t know he’s an alien, it’s still all a bit weird.  
Weren’t things complicated enough? he wonders to himself. 

He keeps looking at Donna. “Is he missing or not?”

She glares at him. “Come with me.”

He follows her down the hallway to a small office. She gestures with her arm and he goes inside. She follows him in and closes the door.

“Al right,” she says briskly, sitting down behind a desk that’s covered with stacks of scripts. “Who are you?”

“John Smith.”

“Please. That’s the worst fake name I’ve ever heard. What are you really called?”

“That’s really my name.”

“Right.”

“Some people call me the Doctor,” he offers.

“The Doctor.”

“Yes.”

“Just ‘The Doctor’?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re not at all pretentious, then.”

He has to work at it to keep calm. Rose would not want him to get impatient or upset. He repeats that several times to himself.

“My name is Doctor John Smith. Blame my parents if you like.”

She drums her finger son the desk. “Fine. Dr. Smith. How did you know my name?”

“I didn’t. Not really. I sort of...took a guess.”

“You took a guess on my name,” she repeats. “A name that is no way as common as, say, for example, your own.”

He sighs. This Donna is suspicious and cynical and he’s never getting out of this.

“Look, I did some research into Mr. Lively after he went missing. Your name came up, as well as a photo of you. Is that reasonable?” He frames it as a sarcastic question, but really he wants to know if she does in fact believe him.

“Fine. You know my name. What is it you’re doing here?”

“Sam’s friend contacted me for help. She hasn’t seen him in a while and she suspects foul play.” He can’t believe that he just heard the words ‘foul play’ come out of his mouth. He’s been stranded on this planet for too long.

“Who is this ‘friend’ of his?” Donna demands, and yep, there is definitely jealously there. Just what he needs.

“They’re old friends. From childhood. Back...home.”

She nods slowly. “One of his mates from Cornwall.”

“Cornwall?” he repeats. “Is that where he said - where he’s from?”

“Yes. On the coast.”

“Huh.” Of al the places to pick as your false home, Cornwall is probably the most unlikely the Doctor could have thought of.

“What’s this friend’s name?” Donna continues. “I’ve never heard him talk much about his home. He goes back to visit now and again but he never talks about it.”

“He goes back?”

“Sometimes.”

The Doctor frowns at this and stares across the room. “How often?”

“I don’t know. A few times a year.”

That does not make sense. He’s trying to work out they whys in his head but Donna brings him back to reality.

“He hasn’t gone missing, exactly. He’s just not here.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“No. He doesn’t always say.”

“So he might not be missing.”

“No.”

“But you still don’t know where he is. So he could, in fact, be missing,” the Doctor points out.

“Yes,” Donna says reluctantly. “He’s never left without telling me where he’s going to. We’re pretty good friends. He likes my work.”

“And Clive?”

She swallows. “Clive?”

“His partner.”

“He’s missing, too,” Donna admits, and seems to deflate. “They’re both gone. They’re both bloody gone, and Derek the assistant is no help at all, and I’ve got people calling all the time, asking where they are and what’s going on, and I haven’t got the slightest idea what to tell any of them.”

“I’m here to find him.”

“Why?”

“Because his friend is worried about him. Very worried. And because something may have happened to him.”

“Happened?” she says sharply. “Like what? Sam is the most stable man I know. He wouldn’t get mixed up in anything dangerous or disappear for no reason.”

And yet he’s done just that. The Doctor does not point this out, and thinks Rose would be proud of him for not doing so.

“How well do you know him?” he asks her.

“Well enough. I’ve worked with him for a few years now.”

“Right,” he murmurs. “Well. Thanks for your time.” He stands up and holds out his hand. She takes it almost without thinking, and he shakes it enthusiastically.

Something seems to pass between their hands, and they both pull back at the same time, confused.

She stares at him without really seeing him. Finally she shakes her head to clear it.

“Is that it?” she demands. “You’ve come and asked questions and now you’re leaving?”

He’s a bit stunned himself by what’s happened, and not at all sure what it was or why it happened. “There’s nothing else I can do here,” he explains. “I’ll be in touch.”

“But who are you? Who do you work for? Are you a detective or something?”

“Er...no. I’m not.”

“Then who are you?”

“I’m a scientist. That’s all.”

“And you’re doing this on your own?”

“Yes,” he says, and he’s so glad that he can answer at least that one question without lying. “I’m doing this for his friend.”

“But you can’t just go. You’re telling me that Sam is missing and that something may have happened, and -”

“I have to go, Donna,” he interrupts her. “But I’ll keep in touch.”

“Keep in touch!” she echoes in disbelief. “I’m going to the police this instant and filing a missing persons!”

He steps close to her. “Donna Noble,” he murmurs, “do not call the police. I assure you it’s not in Sam’s best interests. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me!” she says furiously. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m a higher authority than the police,” he snaps back, “and I’m telling you to leave it alone until I get back to you. Or else.” He emphasizes the last two words and steps out of the office.

Donna stands there, alone, for a long moment. “Insufferable prawn,” she mutters. Going back to her desk, she sits down and picks up her phone.


	17. And as I looked up into those eyes his vision borrows mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written hundred of thousands of words in this fandom, and hundreds of thousands of words in other ones. I've published fiction and nonfiction and been paid to do it.
> 
> I've never loved anything I've written as much as I love this chapter, and years later that still holds true.

Donna Noble, script editor. 

That’s what she is. That’s what her nameplate says. Her job is to read scripts and evaluate them, decide if they’re good enough to consider. She reads scripts they’re working on, works to keep continuity straight, so a character isn’t doing something he shouldn’t be doing from one scene to the next. She types up her findings and opinions. She’s good at that, typing things up.

One hundred words a minute, thank you very much.

Donna loves her job. She went from a temp spot to her current position in five months flat. Sam Lively himself hired her on. She’s loved every minute of it.

At least, she’d loved it until Sam Lively up and disappeared.

The movie director who’d hit it big with science-fiction movies. Donna is in charge of scripts, but she knows that Sam is the one who dictates the stories to screenwriters and makes sure the plots follow his ideas. He’s made the studio what it is, and he’s earned his position and his millions and all those funny little Spock trophies he’s so proud of.

And now he’s gone. He’s traveled before, of course, for business, for pleasure, to scout out locations or meet new talent. But he’s never just disappeared before. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. His office is untouched. His flat is empty and his car sits in the studio’s parking lot.

His partner Clive, who helped him build the business, is gone, too. Poof, just gone.

In fact, as Donna slowly makes a few phone calls, it appears that many more people have just gone poof. Other studio heads, movie executives and television producers, are all gone, according to their secretaries and assistants. Sometimes there’s no secretary or assistant, either, and Donna is left leaving a voicemail to someone who’s never heard of her.

Over half of Sam’s address book, business contacts and associates, over half of those people can’t be reached. The other half seems to be calling all the time, demanding to talk to Sam or to Clive. As Donna walks through Sam Lively Productions, she finally notices what she’s been refusing to notice before.

People are gone. Makeup, costume, special effects - people are missing from every department.

It’s only when that absurd scientist comes by, asking her questions about Sam, that Donna is forced to admit that there is a problem, and if she doesn’t do something about it very soon she may not have a job.

She watches John Smith walk out, completely annoyed with him and his attitude. Picking up the phone, she dials Derek’s number.

And waits.

And waits.

“Derek,” she says angrily when his voicemail switches on, “I don’t know where you are, but you’d better get here now. Things are in trouble, and we need to do something.”

She hangs up, not at all satisfied. Drumming her fingers on the desk, she picks up the phone again, this time dialing Derek’s flat.

“I know you’re there,” she says when the voicemail at his flat switches on. “And if you don’t pick up the phone and start talking to me I’m coming by with three armed security guards and I’m gonna break down your door and-”

Derek’s voice comes on the line. “Donna.”

“Yeah, it’s Donna! Where the hell are you? I’ve got strange people coming round asking where Sam and Clive are, and I don’t know. Where are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re Sam’s assistant! You know everything.” 

“I swear to you, Donna, I don’t know where he is. Not this time.” Derek’s voice is hushed. “Listen, I’m not coming in for a few days, okay? You can keep things going for me, yeah?”

“Don’t you dare,” Donna says murderously. “Don’t you _dare_ do this to me! There’s no one here! They’re all gone and I don’t know why, and I’m not going to be left here when the studio heads finally figure out that Sam is missing!”

“Sorry, Donna,” Derek says hastily. There are loud crashing sounds from the background. “Don’t call me again. The phone’s turning off and I’m going away. See you soon!”

“ _No_ , Derek!” But she’s speaking to a dial tone. Donna hangs up and holds her head in her hands.

 

Things had been going so well for her for a while, she muses on the drive home that night. The darkness that had been threatening the world is gone. Earth is safe and life is back to normal. Right after that happened she’d felt an astonishing sense of freedom, like she’d finally found her purpose in life. She’d used that sense of freedom to move out of her mother’s place. Much as she loved her mum, Sylvia was suffocating her with complaints and criticisms. Donna had listened to that all of her life, but she’d finally taken a stand.

It was hard to be away from her granddad, but being free of Sylvia was heavenly.

Walking into her flat and locking the door behind her, Donna steps out of her shoes and collapses onto the couch.

“Let’s review,” she says out loud. “Two missing bosses, one missing assistant, support staff gone left, right and center. This is not good.”

If the studio folds she won’t have a job. If she can’t find another job she’ll lose her flat. If she loses her flat...

“I’m not going back home,” she says to no one at all. 

Donna changes out of her suit - wool and silk blend with a lovely hot pink satin lining - and into a track suit. She pulls her hair up into a ponytail and eats a solitary dinner of pasta and salad. There are three messages waiting for her, from three different men, but she’s not in the mood for company.

As she sips from her glass of water, she runs through that last conversation with John Smith. A stranger man she’s never met, that’s for sure. He admits that Sam is missing and that he’s working on it, but he won’t tell her anything else. Who is he working for? Why does he seem so familiar?

Where the hell is Sam?

Donna leaves her dinner on the table and turns her computer on.  
She types “John Smith” into the search engine and waits.

59,400,000 results.

She looks at the number for a moment and types “Dr.” in front of the name.

55,200,000 results.

She narrows the field even more by looking for those Dr. John Smiths in the science field.

And in London.

Still far, far too many John Smiths out there.

“They can’t all be their real names,” Donna mutters. She keeps at it, searching through each profile, all the while wondering why he seemed so familiar to her.

The phone rings once, and she lets the machine get it. 

“It’s David,” the voice says. “Fancy going out for a drink tomorrow? Call me?”

Donna keeps searching. She’s not been short of male company for a long time, but the death of her fiance still haunts her. She’d loved him, and to know that he’d been killed in the most brutal way imaginable is hard to overcome. She’s not still in mourning or anything. She doesn’t try her wedding gown on when she’s alone. In fact, she sold her wedding dress back to Chez Allison when it was clear she wouldn’t be needing it.

It’s just hard to imagine letting herself love someone again.

Two hours later she is no closer to finding out anything than she was last week. There are just too many John Smiths out there, too many scientists to go through. Tomorrow looms before her, a day where no one is at work and she has no answers. How long before she loses her job?

She’s about to give up and go watch television when she stumbles onto a website at London University. The heading is about a new theory of astronomical research that is making waves. It’s clear from the article that this is something that made news in the scientific communities and nowhere else. She’s never heard of it.

What catches her eye is a photo of someone called Dr. Knowles. He works at London University, and it’s his website she’s on. In the background of Dr. Knowles’ picture is a large group of people. Also someone who looks very much like Dr. John Smith. Donna squints at it, trying to enlarge the image on her screen. It’s him, all right, but there’s no mention of who he is or what he’s doing there. 

Maybe he really is a scientist.

A scientist looking for a missing person, though?

Donna frowns thoughtfully at the picture.

 

The next day is sheer hell. Mary Beth the receptionist quits after a morning full of angry phone callers and even angrier visitors.

“Everyone wants to know where Mr. Lively is!” she rages to Donna. “And I don’t bloody well know, do I? But no one believes me! I’ve never been spoken to like this in my life!”

Donna watches her go, another rat leaving the sinking ship. 

With the employee roster in hand, swiped from the human resources office - Doug, head of personnel, also gone in a puff of smoke - she carefully goes down the list, checking off names of people who haven’t come to work.

There are quite a lot.

The studio is deserted today. No one has come in for meetings, for run-throughs, to discuss how to film the movie that’s the current project. Donna tamps down the panic that is going to make her hyperventilate and starts calling people.

Two and a half hours later, she hangs up her office phone for the last time and fights back tears. Not one of her coworkers is available. They’re all just gone. Gone like Sam and Clive and Derek and Doug. “And Alice, Michelle, Julie and Tom,” she adds to herself. 

Maybe Dr. John Smith isn’t quite a lunatic after all. He may be a pretentious, secretive git, but he may have been right about Sam.

“Okay,” Donna says to herself, sitting in the small, lovely office that she adores. “We just need to find out what’s going on. Find out and find Sam and fix things before anyone else finds out what’s happened. Yes.” Clasping her hands together, she looks around her office. Sam let her choose the color for the walls, and she had them painted a pretty yellow. She’s had a good time here at the studio, and she loves her job. She loves Sam - that is, she loves _working_ for Sam - and she has good friends here.

Friends who are now missing.

Donna stands up and squares her shoulders. Carrying the roster with her, she goes walking through the building. Two people in the makeup department, when there are usually fourteen. No one in special effects. Human resources is dark and deserted. To her great surprise, the accounting offices are up and running.

“Lee?” Donna says in surprise, halting inside the office, “what are you doing?”

Lee looks up from his calculator. “I’m running the numbers for this latest film. Sam doesn’t want to go over budget.”

“Yes,” Donna says, nonplussed, “but Sam’s gone.”

“Is he? I hope he remembers his expense receipts the last time, I don’t care if he is the boss.”

“Haven’t you noticed that everyone’s gone?” Donna demands, waving the bright yellow roster in her hand around.

Vanessa looks up from her desk. “They’re on location.”

“They’re on location?” Donna repeats, with such disbelief and amazement in her voice that they both look at her in puzzlement.

“They’re filming the new movie,” Lee says, picking up a sheet of paper from a tray on his desk. “They’ve been there since last week.”

“They went on location one day!” Donna says furiously. “ _One_ day! And then they all went home and then no one came in to work the next day. And this was all after Sam went missing.”

Lee and Vanessa exchange a glance. “Sam’s missing?” Lee says. 

“Do you lot ever pay attention to what’s going on?” Donna demands.

“We’re usually pretty busy in here,” Vanessa says. “They haven’t hired that third person we need yet.”

Donna turns on her heel and strides down the hallway. “Idiots,” she mutters. “Why couldn’t _they_ have gone missing?”

Phones are ringing, of course. She heads to the reception desk to check the messages when she catches sight of someone walking toward the front door. Her heart stops. Literally, just like that, stops beating.

Coming to the door, dressed in an expensive suit and expensive wool coat, accompanied by several, equally - expensively dressed men, is Mason Tate. The executive head of Lightvision Studios. The parent company of Sam Lively Productions.

“Oh, no,” Donna whispers. She considers dropping behind the desk and hiding, but one of Tate’s companions is already opening the door for him. Donna’s heart starts beating again, a quick tattoo that she can’t hear anything over. “Oh, no,” she whispers again. 

Mason Tate strides in, a handsome man in his sixties. He made his name in Hollywood, then returned home to London to open the largest movie studio in England. He gave Sam his first big break and was responsible for helping him transition to his own production company.

He never comes by. Ever. Donna just can’t believe her bad luck here.

Mason Tate looks around, a slight frown on his face. Donna forces herself to stand up straight and smile.

“Good morning,” she says. Her voice comes out as more of a squeak, but she clears her throat and keeps smiling.

“Where’s Sam?” Mason Tate asks, and Donna’s heart sinks to somewhere around her stomach.

“Mr. Lively is on location,” she says brightly.

“He’s not answering my calls.”

“Well, he’s on location. Maybe the mobile reception isn’t working.”

“I can’t reach Clive, either.”

Oh, damn. “I think Clive went with them. On location.”

“His assistant said that Clive wasn’t due to go on location,” one of the men with Mason says.

Donna’s heart lurches back into her chest cavity and starts to beat rapidly again. Surely one human heart shouldn’t be capable of all this moving about?

“His assistant?” she says. “You talked to his assistant?” She’s been trying to reach that assistant all day. “When?”

“Last night. She said Clive wasn’t on location but was unavailable.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Tate,” Donna says finally, turning back to who is her ultimate boss. “I can’t reach Cindy myself. She’s not here today.”

“It looks like a lot of people aren’t here today.” Mason Tate levels a long look at her. “Tell Sam to call me the minute he gets in.”

“Yes. Yes, sir, I will.” Donna stays frozen in place until the men leave. Then she slams the door shut and draws the blinds on all the windows. Rushing to the the reception computer, she hastily types up a sign that says “Closed for extermination.” Looking online, she copies and pasts a logo from one of the local pest control companies, prints out the paper, and tapes it to the studio door beneath the blinds.

Picking up the house intercom, she clears her throat and pushes the “on” button.

“Attention employees. There has been a sighting of Venusian spiders in the studio. We’ve been advised to shut down until the problem can be resolved. Please pack up and leave by the front door immediately. We will call you at home when the studio is open again.”

She puts the microphone down and waits. Within twenty minutes, everyone who’d been in the building with her has filed past, in various stages of panic. She locks the door behind them all and leans against it. As she’d suspected, the people still here have no idea who or what Venusians are. They clearly pay no attention to the movies that pay them.

“Right, Donna,” she tells herself. “Let’s go.”

At home she changes out of her business suit and into jeans and a nice turtleneck. She puts her hair up again, out of the way, and makes a sandwich to eat while at the computer.

Using the information she found last night, she goes back to the website of Dr. Knowles at London University. She ponders his information as she chews her turkey and cheese sandwich. Right now this is her only link to Dr. John Smith. If anything is clear to her right now, it’s that she needs this John Smith and his help.

 

London University is far more open than a movie studio. No one stops her when she parks or demands to see her identification. She strolls along as if she belongs there. Locating the science buildings, she consults the campus directory she printed off the computer. Walking along the hallways, trying to avoid the crush of students going from one class to another, she finds the office she’s looking for.

Knocking on the door, she waits but there’s no response. Easing it open, she slips inside and then closes it behind her. Leaving the lights off, she can see that there’s plenty of light from the open windows. She finds a class schedule on the desk, and is relieved to see that Dr. Knowles is lecturing for another hour and a half.

“Can I help you?”

Donna whirls around. A young man is standing at the doorway. 

“Oh! Hello!”

“What are you doing in the Dr. Knowles’ office?”

“I’m looking for him.”

“He’s in a lecture right now.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Donna nods frantically. “I had a question about...about the last assignment he gave in class.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “I’m his teaching assistant. Which class are you in?”

Oh, for the love of...”I’m auditing the class,” Donna says through clenched teeth. “I’ll ask him later.” She pushes past him and heads out.

Sadly, that’s all she finds out. There was nothing hanging around that points to any knowledge of John Smith. Donna is forced to admit defeat, her only lead to John Smith vanished before her eyes.

She broods about this all day, through a few hours of shopping and Chinese takeaway eaten at her kitchen table. She’s not going in to work tomorrow - until she knows what’s happening she’s not going to sit in an empty building and answer questions she can’t answer. Hopefully the spiders will keep people away for a day or two.

She’s almost tempted to ring up one of the men who are always after her for a date, but it wouldn’t be fair to them in her current state. All she can focus on is Sam. Sam and the rest of her coworkers are gone, and the only person who might know what’s happened is nowhere to be found.

She goes home and tries to sleep, manages to actually sleep for a while. And then she’s up again at 4:30 in the morning, wide-awake. Unable to lie in bed, she takes a shower and gets dressed. Debating the clothes, she tries to choose between jeans and work clothes. She’s not going in to work, so clearly jeans are in order. But what if she does go into work? What if Sam comes back or Mason Tate comes looking for her?

“Oh, sod it,” she mutters, and puts on jeans and a sweater.

To keep from jumping out of her skin, Donna takes a drive. She drives herself back on the campus of London University. She takes another entrance in, near the planetarium. This takes her closer to the science buildings, and she slowly cruises by on the off chance that she might see Dr. Knowles on his way in to his office. Maybe she can park and wait for him to show up for his first class.

Instead, she gets the surprise of her life. Coming out of the science building, hurrying along so quickly he’s almost running, is John Smith.

Donna blinks and looks again. It’s him, it’s definitely him. Windblown brown hair and skinny build, in jeans and a t-shirt and sweater, running over to a dark car. Donna glances at her watch. It’s only 5:30. What’s he doing?

She drives around the parking lot until she finds him, getting into the dark car. He’s talking a mile a minute on a mobile phone, hands gesturing wildly. He pulls out of his parking space and races out of the lot. 

It takes Donna all of two and a half seconds to decide to follow him.

The dark car races down streets that are all but empty of traffic at this time of day. Not only can’t Donna believe the man is out so early, she can’t believe she’s wasted most of the day and night away herself. 

“I’ve got to get better at time management,” she mutters.

John Smith’s car starts to slow down. She keeps several car lengths back - she’s watched enough crime drama on tv to know that much - and slows down as well. She’s so focused on the car in front of her that she doesn’t see what rolls under her own car, but she does hear the thump.

“Oh no!” she cries in dismay. Checking the rearview mirror, she sees a small pale ball roll away. “I didn’t see that,” she says to herself, and is jerked back to the road by another thump. “What on earth was that?”

The thumps keep coming. Somewhat to Donna’s bewilderment, there are little balls all over the street, like a child’s toy store has just let loose all its inventory.

Only...it appears that these little balls are moving. On feet.

“Oh...my...” Donna’s mouth hangs open. Ahead of her, John Smith has stopped his car and is getting out, looking around the ground. Donna gives up. This is not the time for stealth. She parks her car and steps out, keeping a wary eye on the ground.

“Oi!” she calls. “Dr. Smith!”

He whirls around with a jerk and his eyes widen in horror. “Donna?”

“What is this stuff?” she demands, walking to him. She kicks a few of the balls on the way, and she’s almost reached him when she finally looks down. To her horror, those little balls with feet also have arms and heads. And little bitty faces. She screams and jumps the rest of the way over to him, clutching his arm.

“What the bleeding hell are those things?” she demands, looking around. Little bits of pale things, they are, all walking in the same direction. All walking over to the building they’re parked in front of.

John Smith is still staring at her, his mouth hanging open. “What are you _doing_ here?” he asks.

“They’re _walking_ ,” she says. “Little creatures, walking down the street. I think I killed a few of them.”

“How did you find me?” he asks her.

She slaps his arm. “I followed you, you idiot! You were right - Sam’s missing and Clive’s missing and everyone in the world has gone missing at that studio but me, and I know you know more than you’re telling me.”

“You followed me,” he repeats.

“Yes, I followed you. I was at the University. Now are you gonna tell me what these things are?”

He jerks his attention back to the street. Little bits of blob are still walking.

“They’re called Adipose,” he says slowly. “At least, they used to be called so. I think they’re heading into that building.”

“Hang on. Adipose. Like...like _fat_?”

“ _Exactly_ like fat. Come on.”

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“Come _on_ , Donna.”

She follows him - what else can she do? She keeps her eyes on the ground, trying to avoid those little Adipose-y things. As they head to wherever he’s heading, he keeps up a stream of conversation.

“What are the odds that this would happen here? I mean, yes, it happened there, but to have it happen here, too? And here you are, just popped right in.”

“Popped right in where?” Donna asks. “I followed you.”

“Yeah, why did you follow me?” He stops in the street to look at her.

“I followed you to ask what you meant last time you came to my office!” she says. “And now there are little people walking around here.”

“Well, technically they’re not people, they’re bits of fat,” he says. 

_“Whatever._ Where’d they come from? Where are they going?”

He grins at her and grabs her hand. “Come on!”

She feels a spark as he touches her hand, just like the last time. Looking into his eyes she feels oddly off balance, like there is something there she ought to know but doesn’t. Donna allows him to pull her along.

“Come on, come on come on! Ah! Here we are.” He pulls them to a halt at the back of the building.

There’s a light shining that has nothing to do with street lamps.

“That’s a spaceship up there,” Donna says, appalled. “A spaceship. Is this an invasion?”

“No invasion this time. Just some offspring trying to get home. Come on! Damage control.”

“Where?” she asks. 

“Up.” He wrenches open the back door and runs up the stairs. Donna has no choice but to follow him.

“There’s a lift, you know,” she pants after they pass the seventh floor.

“Hurry!” He bolts up the stairs, his long legs covering the ground much faster than she can. 

Once on the roof he bursts out of the exit door. “No!”

Donna finally catches up, gasping for breath. “What is it? What’s happened?” She looks all around and sees nothing. Hanging to the edge of the roof, she carefully peers over the edge. “The little fats are all gone. Where’d they go?”

“They left. In the spaceship.” John Smith points up. Donna looks up into the sky, where a spaceship is slowly disappearing through the clouds. She says the first thing that pops into her head.

“My granddad will love it.”

“Is he still watching the stars?”

“Oh, yeah, he’ll never -” Donna stops and turns around. “How do you know he watches the stars?”

John Smith shrugs, an expression of exaggerated innocence on his face. “I just assumed he was a stargazer. Since the spaceship is up here. In the stars.”

She narrows her eyes. “No,” she says slowly. “That’s not it.”

“We’ve never met before,” he says seriously. “Your granddad and me.”

There is so much she wants to ask him. Donna settles for the most obvious. “What were those things? Where’d they go?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking up into the sky. “They were the offspring of a planet who lost their breeding grounds. They were bred here, secretly and against the law. At least, I assume so. Maybe the Shadow Proclamation doesn’t have the same reach here. Either way, they were bred here on Earth. We just watched them head home.”

“Who bred them?”

“I could guess, but you never know,” he says. ‘“They’re long gone now, one way or another.”

“Aliens,” she says again. “I knew about the Cybermen, of course. Everyone did. And you hear rumors all the time about Torchwood. But I never thought that aliens were here, all around us.” She looks at him, waits for him to tell her that she’s daft, that of course aliens aren’t all around them.

He doesn’t. He only stands there, staring at her with a lost expression on his face. Once again she has the unsettling feeling that he knows more than he’s telling her.

It’s a warm night. The moonlight hits the roof where they’re still standing. A breeze brushes her face and ruffles his hair. She’s just watched alien babies fly away in a spaceship, and he’s acting like it’s perfectly normal.

Donna feels her world tilting slowly off its axis, away from her ordered reality and into something she didn’t know existed until now.

“Who are you?” she whispers.

He holds out his hand to her. “Come with me,” he says.


	18. And I know he's no stranger For I feel I’ve held him for all of time

Rose wakes up at 5:30. Turning over, not quite-all-the-way-awake yet, she reaches for the Doctor. He’s not there, and that fact makes her wake up all the way and look around. He’s definitely not there, even though it’s morning and he’s always, always been there in their bed when she wakes up.

She throws the covers back and gets up. He’s not in the bathroom doing his hair or brushing his teeth. Not in the kitchen or living room. He is, in fact, not there.

This is so out of character that Rose doesn’t know how to react. She’s not worried about him, not really. Not worried that the thought of commitment has made him do a runner. _Has it? Would he? He never would._

Moving on autopilot, Rose gets the morning paper and brings it inside. She tries to read it but stops when she hits the horoscopes. She checks her mobile for messages, but there aren’t any.

“Where’ve you gone to?” she murmurs. “What are you up to?” He’s up to something, she’s certain of that. Otherwise he would have been there this morning.

She gives up the thought of breakfast and takes a shower. He’ll be back. 

 

 

He wakes up at 3:00 in the morning. Rose is still fast asleep, of course, sprawled across her side of the bed. Long blonde hair spreads across her pillow and onto her pajama top.

He leans across the bed and kisses her forehead. She’s sound asleep and doesn’t move, even when his breath fans her hair. He tries to wake her, in case she’s in the mood for...well, for anything, really, he’s not going to be choosy right now, but she doesn’t stir.

Just as well, he supposes. They’ve been doing a good job of acting normal, but that thing that is between them is keeping them from the more intimate aspects of their relationship at the moment. It’s by an unspoken consent, and he knows it can’t continue much longer.

But they keep at it just the same.

He knows what’s bothering Rose. He’s just too much of a coward to address it right now.

Jackie’s words hit him hard, and he knows that Rose hasn’t forgotten them, either.

Prove his commitment to Rose. As if they’re just an ordinary couple, living together, in love, planning to buy a house...

Okay, that is what they are. And hasn’t he been maneuvering Rose to this end for weeks now? She hadn’t mentioned commitments or houses, he was the one who brought it up in the first place! Only he can’t tell Jackie that because then he’d have to explain about a certain baby TARDIS living in Tony’s old cot in their spare room, and then Jackie would kill him.

He’s painfully aware that he did not act properly at dinner. He let Rose take the brunt from Jackie and then went outside to play with Tony. He let it hang there while they went to a movie, while they made love in their bed that night, while they went out for a jog and then lunch the next day before working on the TARDIS and watching old Sam Lively movies for research.

But...he knows why he didn’t bring it up. He knows what’s holding him back, what he’s afraid of. Why didn’t Rose bring it up? Is it possible that she wants something different? Something...not a commitment?

Why is love so bloody complicated all of a sudden? You’d think that after risking their lives on countless planets against countless aliens and dangers, this ordinary life together would be smooth and easy and safe.

It’s anything but, this adventure. It’s one thing he never saw coming.

What is wrong with him?

What’s wrong with her?

So Rose is mad at him. Maybe not _mad_ , exactly, but she is upset. She hasn’t said anything to him, hasn’t acted in a way that would give the _appearance_ that she is mad or upset or angry, but she is.

He still has his brilliant Time Lord mind. He doesn’t need anything spelled out for him.

Weeell, it’s possible that he does need things spelled out for him, sometimes, but that’s only because he hasn’t been human for very long and some things still escape him.

Like Valentine’s Day. And Guy Fawkes Day. And this world’s take on Halloween, which is just like the other world’s take on Halloween except that there are small chipmunks involved somehow.

All right. So he’s taken the coward’s way out for the moment. They will find time to talk, very soon, and they can work out what’s wrong and find a house and everything will be fine and then he can do what he’s been planning to do.

He gets up and gets dressed. He hasn’t spoken to Janet recently, but he has questions for her about her home planet. Slipping on his shoes, he quietly lets himself out of the flat and drives to London University. Evening hours are the best time to visit the planetarium.

It’s empty tonight - no solar flares or celestial events are expected. He makes his way to the telescope, intent on trying to pinpoint the exact location of Nocklyn.

He sees something else instead. Something he’s seen before.

It’s only as he’s heading down a street toward the office building that he realizes he’s been followed. By the time he and Donna reach the roof of the office building, the Adipose offspring have left in the spaceship he saw from the planetarium. He’s left alone with Donna, and in the moment of holding her hand he sees what he must do.

“Come with me.”

 

On the way home he rings up Jake and tells him not to worry - the aliens have left and there’s no sign of any bodies. If it was Matron Cofelia, she either escaped or made it onto the ship.

“So where are we heading?” Donna asks.

“Right here.” He pulls up in front of his flat. “Come on.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot,” she says, but gets out of his car and follows him. “Here, is this your place?”

“Don’t worry,” he says absently, unlocking the door to their flat. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Just be quiet, because it’s still early.”

It is, in fact, after six, and they’ve barely stepped into the hallway when he’s met by Rose.

“Where were you?” she asks, obviously upset but trying not to show it. 

He catches her in his arms. “Rose. I’m sorry. I just went out for a bit.”

“I woke up and you weren’t here,” Rose says, calm almost immediately. She may have overreacted, and she’s definitely embarrassed about that, but this was the first time ever that he wasn’t there when she awoke. With what they’ve been going through, she couldn’t help but jump to perhaps a few wrong conclusions. He’s here, though, right in front of her, dressed haphazardly because it was dark and he didn’t want to wake her.

“I’m sorry,” he says apologetically. “Something happened. And then I ran into someone.”

Rose looks beyond him, his arms still on her shoulders. Her eyes widen. “Donna?”

Donna’s look changes from mild amusement at what appears to be a lover’s spat to suspicion. “How do you know my name?”

Rose’s mouth moves but nothing comes out. “He told me,” she says finally.

“When? Just now? I know it wasn’t just now.”

His back still to Donna, the Doctor rolls his eyes.

“I’ll just go and finish getting dressed,” Rose says. She’s showered but is still in her robe. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“What is going on here?” Donna asks in a low voice. “Don’t you try to lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assures her. “Let me go to talk to her. Stay here.”

Donna is left alone in the hallway. She’d leave, but her curiosity has been roused to such an extent that she couldn’t possibly walk away now. Instead she walks into the kitchen. It’s a nice room painted in light blues. The morning paper is on the table, and she sits down to take a quick look. It’s the horoscopes, and someone has folded it to one precise horoscope. _You’ll meet an old friend today. Be ready._

Donna sets the paper aside. Still no sign of John Smith or his friend. Getting up, she wanders into the living room. Movie magazines are scattered across the coffee table. She recognizes _Lights!Camera!Action! _with a rueful grin. It’s required reading for her job. There are also lots of _People_ magazines about, which she can’t help but approve of. John Smith’s girlfriend is a lot like her, it looks like.__

__Although...honestly, she might want to cut back on the stuffed animals. They’re a bit much for a grown woman._ _

__Walking farther down the hallway, she comes to a closed door. Donna doesn’t know what’s come over her, but she reaches for the doorknob and starts to push the door open. She catches sight of what might be a baby’s cot before someone stops her._ _

__John Smith’s hand closes over hers on the knob, that sparking sensation running up her arm at his touch._ _

__“You don’t want to go in there,” he says gently. “Come here and meet Rose properly.”_ _

__Donna smoothes her hair and follows him back to the kitchen, trying to act like what she was doing was a common thing and not an inexcusably rude breach of etiquette._ _

__The woman standing in the kitchen is not the one Donna just met. This woman has long, smooth blonde hair and beautifully made clothes. The plain style of the shirt and trousers can’t disguise the expensive price tags. In a glance Donna calculates her shoes to be worth more than her own paycheck editing scripts._ _

__And her face...she’s very pretty, this girl. He called her..._ _

__And it hits her. “You’re Rose Tyler,” Donna says, comprehension coming in a flash._ _

__Rose nods. “Yeah. And you’re Donna. Nice to meet you.”_ _

__“You’re _Rose Tyler._ ”_ _

__The Doctor sighs. “Have a seat, Donna.”_ _

__Donna sits, still gaping at Rose, who is pouring cups of tea for them all._ _

__She’s still gaping as Rose sits next to the Doctor and sips her tea._ _

__“Rose Tyler,” she says yet again. “From the news and the magazines and...that’s why you looked so familiar,” she says to John Smith. “You’ve been in the papers with her.”_ _

__How could she not have recognized him before? Pete Tyler’s mysterious, long-lost daughter arrived in London a few years back to a riot of speculation. It hadn’t all died down before she started being seen with a tall, mysterious man with an equally mysterious background._ _

__John Smith coughs. “Yes. Well. That’s not at all our doing, you know.”_ _

__Donna shifts her attention back to Rose. “You’re Rose Tyler. Your dad is Pete Tyler.”_ _

__Rose nods. “Yeah. I know.”_ _

__“You’re filthy rich!”_ _

__Rose has never known how to deal with that statement. People will believe whatever they want to. It’s usually more convenient than the truth, anyway._ _

__“You’re filthy rich. Your dad is the richest man in the world, and you could have any bloke you want.”_ _

__Donna and Rose both look at the bloke in question, sitting there with untidy hair eating a biscuit right out of the packaging._ _

__“Any bloke you wanted, and you’re with him,” Donna finishes._ _

__The Doctor knows he’s been insulted but lets it slide._ _

__“I know,” Rose says apologetically. “But he’s the only man I’ve ever loved.”_ _

__He turns his head to smile at her, a slow, intimate smile that lights up his face. She smiles back at him, for a moment once more the teenage girl who roamed the universe in giddy happiness._ _

__“The only man you’ve ever loved, is he?” Donna asks, even as he reaches across to take hold of Rose’s hand._ _

__“The only one,” Rose says simply. “In any time and place.”_ _

__Who says the rich aren’t daft barmy fools sometimes? Donna supposes he’s good looking enough, if you go for the tall skinny types. Which she doesn’t. She gets back to the real reason for her visit here._ _

__“What do you want with me?” she asks John Smith._ _

__“What _do_ we want with her?” Rose asks, still holding his hand. “Where did you find her?”_ _

__The Doctor runs his free hand across the back of his neck, stalling for time. Finally he sighs and admits the truth._ _

__“I saw a spaceship out in the sky this morning,” he says. “Donna was...following me, as it turns out, and we tried to stop the Adipose ship.”_ _

__“Adipose,” Rose echoes. She remembers that, both from traveling via the dimension cannon and from what he’s told her. “Did you stop them?”_ _

__“They left our space before I could do anything,” he says. “They were harmless enough.”_ _

__Rose turns to Donna. “So why were you following him?”_ _

__Donna has the grace to look a bit embarrassed. And then she remembers what she’s gone through, and the embarrassment leaves her. She’s going to get some answers here._ _

__“My boss is missing. More than half of the studio where I work is missing. No one has any idea what’s happening, and John comes by asking questions and doesn’t help me in the slightest. So I decided to follow him. I need to know what’s going on. I didn’t think I’d be in the middle of aliens or anything!”_ _

__“No, of course not,” he says absently._ _

__“So?” Donna presses._ _

__“So, what?”_ _

__“So, Dr. Smith, are you gonna tell me what’s going on or do I go to the police?”_ _

__“You can’t go to the police,” Rose says. “I’m afraid they wouldn’t believe you.”_ _

__“Then tell me.”_ _

__“It’s as you said,” Rose says. “Your boss is missing and so is his staff.”_ _

__“We don’t know what’s happened,” John Smith stresses. “We have a few leads to follow and we’re going to talk to Sam’s friend today. We should know more then.”_ _

__Donna’s head comes up. “Sam’s friend? His friend from home?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“His...female friend?”_ _

__“Her name’s Janet,” Rose says. “Has Sam ever mentioned her?”_ _

__“No. Why did she go to you? Who are you?”_ _

__Rose looks at the Doctor. He looks at her._ _

__“We may as well tell her,” he says._ _

__Rose hesitates and looks uncertain._ _

__“She’s seen the Adipose, Rose. She’s come this far.”_ _

__Rose nods. “Okay. Donna, we’re Torchwood.”_ _

__Donna is motionless. “Torchwood.”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“As in...aliens.”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Rose Tyler, the heiress to all that Vitex, works for Torchwood.”_ _

__“My dad runs Torchwood, actually.”_ _

__“Pete Tyler runs Vitex,” Donna corrects her._ _

__“That’s what everyone is meant to think. It’s still his company, but he’s been running Torchwood since the Cybermen escaped.”_ _

__“And you?” Donna demands, looking at John Smith. “You’re Torchwood?”_ _

__He squirms. “Yes.”_ _

__“You lot fight aliens.”_ _

__“Yes,” Rose says yet again._ _

__“All right, then,” Donna says briskly. “Fill me in.”_ _

__“Fill you...fill you in?” Rose questions. The Doctor’s Donna was brilliant. This Donna is unknown to her still, and she’s not sure how much is the same._ _

__“Fill me in,” Donna says briskly. “Because I’ve got to find Sam.”_ _

__“You believe us?” the Doctor asks, to be sure he understands. He didn’t expect this to be quite so easy. Donna usually made him work for it._ _

__Donna looks at him, into eyes that look far older than they should. For a moment things swirl beneath the surface, and she can almost see things that aren’t really there. Then she blinks and it’s just his face again. She tries to force back the feeling that she knows this man, tries to ignore the sensation that he’s not a stranger._ _

__“I believe you,” she says, taking a bigger leap of faith than she’s ever taken before._ _

__He smiles. “All right, then.”_ _


	19. When I come undone you bring me back again  / Back under the stars back into your arms

Rose Tyler is in his bed. They’ve talked things over and have come to an understanding. They are forever, and nothing will change that.

With that in mind, the Doctor is back to setting his plan into motion. Now that things are better he can go back to being devious. He’s much more comfortable being devious than being all conflicted because of relationship issues.

He regards her fondly for a moment. It’s morning, and though she’s been asleep for six hours, seventeen minutes, thirty-five seconds, he’s been awake since she fell asleep. 

“Rose,” he murmurs. “Rose.”

“Mmm?” She makes a noise of inquiry as she rolls to face him.

“Rose.”

She opens her eyes. “What?”

“I just got an email from Sally. She’s got a house to show us today.”

Rose flops over onto her back. “Just one? If we’re going to bother it ought to be worth our time.”

“One today, three tomorrow,” he amends.

“Why tomorrow?” She rolls onto her side and props her head up on her hand.

“Because tomorrow is better for us,” he tells her, pulling the covers away from her.

“Better? Better how?”

He’s pulled the bedclothes off and is starting on her top, inching it upwards.

She stops his hands by resting her own on top. “Better how?”

He smiles at her and kisses her lips. “We have a previous engagement.”

“We do?”

“It’s a surprise,” he tells her, winning the fight over her top.

Rose considers her options and lets him win.

 

“So about the house,” Rose begins. She’s at the sink, brushing her teeth in just her bra and underpants.

“What about it?” he asks from their wardrobe.

“We’re still looking for one?”

“Of course we are! I just told you we’re meeting Sally tonight.” His face appears at the door, wearing a frown. “Didn’t I? I might have gotten distracted right around that time but I’m fairly certain that I mentioned it first.”

“You did,” she assures him. “But you didn’t seem to be happy with any of the ones we’ve seen so far.” Forever or not, he was certainly giving the impression of a man reluctant to choose one.

Then again, she wasn’t acting much different. Goodness, she thinks to herself. Maybe they’re not as happy or as well-adjusted to this new life as she thought.

She is, Rose tells herself. She definitely is. Maybe some people, knowing the whole story, would think she made the wrong choice. Certainly Simon and Ian and Riley, hearing that there was the Doctor, and then another Doctor, had looked confused upon learning that she’d brought back the one that she hadn’t spent years looking for.

Jackie doesn’t think she was wrong - a human Doctor who will stay put was the best Jackie could ever have hoped for.

He’s not the Doctor she started with, but he’s hers. Sod all those people, Rose tells herself sternly. She made the best choice she could, and he pushed her into it, pushed her toward the man in the other room with as much coldness as he could muster.

That he wasn’t, in fact, really that cold and heartless could break her heart, if she allows herself to think about it too much.

“What’s wrong?” her Doctor asks in concern. He’s dressed and standing there at the sink, a comb in his hand. He’s looking at her with a wary expression.

Rose smiles at him. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking how much I love you.”

He blinks.

“I do,” she says with a smile.

“I know that,” he responds. “I love you, too.”

“And you’re ready to buy a house?”

“As soon as we find the right one. I’m not settling for some inferior place.”

She made the right choice, Rose knows. The right one for her. She smiles at him and drops her toothbrush.

He almost always knows what she’s thinking. He sets his comb down and wraps her in a hug. His hands are warm against her bare skin. Rose hides her face in his neck and tries not to cry.

“Rose?” he murmurs.

“Sorry.” She steps back, sniffing. “I feel a bit stupid.”

“What about?” He looks down into her eyes, a gentle smile in his own.

“He wanted this for us, and he said what he thought would push us together,” Rose says, trying to explain. “And here we are.”

“He knew that I still wanted you,” the Doctor says cautiously. “He wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“Maybe he was trying to test me? To see what I would choose?”

He shakes his head. “He would never have made you choose between your family and him. Never.”

“But what if he wanted me to choose him?” Rose asks. “Despite all that?”

Maybe he did, maybe he wanted Rose to choose him above all. A life with him aboard the TARDIS, until she died.

A life spent watching her fade until he had to say goodbye again.

That’s not the life either of them would have chosen for Rose.

“He didn’t want you to choose,” the Doctor says gently.

“But I did,” she says sadly. “I was selfish and I chose you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Don’t tell me you did it because you felt sorry for me!”

She has to laugh at the look of affront on his face. “No, ‘course not. I chose you because I could. Because you had one heartbeat.” She places her palm on his chest. “Because you said you would spend your life with me.”

“That’s not being selfish, Rose.” He places his hand over hers. “That’s being human.”

She looks up at him, the pain receding. Maybe it will never go away completely, but she can go on knowing that she’s done the best she could.

“He would never blame you,” he says firmly. “Never.”

Rose is silent, biting her lip.

“You might not believe me,” he continues, “but I am in some position to know about his feelings. Rose, he could never have given you what you wanted. It wasn’t in his nature. But it’s in mine.”

Rose slides her arms around his waist and holds on tight.

“What about you?” she asks softly.

“Oh, I got what I wanted! Granted, it came along with one heart and an alarmingly brief lifespan, but given that the alternative would have been to exist as a hand in a jar, I got off rather well, wouldn’t you say?”

“Stop it.” She tries hard not to giggle and almost succeeds.

“Come on.” He lightly slaps her bottom and picks up her comb. “I’ll buy you a coffee before work.”

 

 

“Hello!” Sally says cheerfully. “So nice to see you again!”

It’s after six in the evening. After a delightful romantic interlude that morning, they headed in to work only to be assigned to a mission to track down a runaway Hawthoran, a small, spiny creature capable of flight and psychic thought that hunted by projecting horrifying images into its victims’ minds. Its prey of choice on Earth turned out to be small lap dogs, causing a riot in the elderly communities among those who favored the small creatures.

It had taken all day to catch the alien, and Rose had stepped through more dog runs, dog parks, and other dog-related places than she’d thought existed.

“I don’t ever want to see or hear another dog as long as I live,” she’d declared, thoroughly put out by the day’s events.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jake had said, sweeping a tracker around a small garden. “Your kids might want a dog. All kids do.”

The Doctor was leaning down to look over the body of a small dog that had been clearly attacked by something with spines.

“Maybe some fish, instead,” he’d said. “They don’t tend to bite you. Well, they do if they’re an Algorquin fillip shark with a taste for human flesh, but generally no, fish don’t bite.”

“Fish aren’t exciting,” Jake had protested.

“No,” the Doctor had agreed. “But they won’t try to kill you, either. If Rose won’t have a dog, the other option would be a cat, and we’re not having that, either.”

Rose had shaken her head. “No cats.”

Now, fresh from Torchwood’s containment units, Rose and the Doctor are ready to shower and sleep. Instead they’re meeting Sally in Maida Vale to look at a house. They both want to find a house to live in. They just don’t feel like doing it now.

“Just the one tonight,” Sally confirms. “Come on, then.” She’s in another charming, pretty suit. Rose looks down at her jeans. The knee is ripped and they’re streaked with mud. She’d abandoned her jacket somewhere on the street, and her shirt is in a similar condition. She doesn’t want to think about her shoes.

The Doctor is relatively unchanged. His jeans are a bit muddy, but his shirt is still clean. Even his shoes don’t seem to have suffered.

Rose sighs. “Can’t wait.”

The house is small and pretty. Rose walks in the front door, taking care to scrape her shoes clean on the welcome mat.

“It’s nice,” she says, glad to be able to say something positive about a house Sally is showing them. The front room is tiny, but it leads to a nice kitchen.

The Doctor is not impressed with the kitchen. He doesn’t do the cooking and wouldn’t know what a proper kitchen ought to look like, anyway. He heads up the stairs and comes back a moment later.

“Only three bedrooms, Sally,” he says cheerfully. “That’s not enough.”

Rose and Sally both turn from their examination of the larder.

“Not enough for what?” Rose demands.

“For...what we need,” he says. “Obviously.”

“What do you need, exactly?” Sally asks, taking out her notebook. “I thought three bedrooms was adequate?”

“It is,” Rose assures her.

“Oh, no,” the Doctor says. “Is this the way through to the outside?” He heads down the hallway without waiting for an answer.

“I thought this would do nicely.” Sally sound a bit upset. Rose hastens to reassure her. 

“Oh, it’s lovely. Let me just...I’ll just pop out and take a look at the garden.”

She follows the Doctor outside. He’s standing on the edge of the garden, hands on his hips.

“Not enough room, Rose,” he says without turning around. “Inside or out.”

She waits, afraid another TARDIS episode might be coming on, but luckily it’s not. 

“No room for a shed or anything out here,” the Doctor is saying. “You couldn’t grow a TARDIS inside or out here. Plus all the neighbors, peeking out their windows and watching us. I don’t think I’d fancy that. Sally! Thanks, but we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sally nods slowly from inside the doorway. “I’ll cross it off the list, then. I do have an unexpected engagement tomorrow, though. Can we reschedule?”

“Yes,” Rose says, desperate to get home and wash up. “Call when you can. We’ll see you later.”

She doesn’t pay attention to anything the Doctor says until she’s in the bathtub in their flat, up to her chin in hot water and scented bubbles.

“I have never been so filthy in my life,” she complains.

He’s stripped off his clothes and taken a quick shower. Dressed in clean trousers, he perches on the edge of the tub.

“Oh, you’ve been dirtier. That time on Alpha Four mark Nine, for example.”

She throws a fistful of suds his way. “Never mention dungeons to me again.”

He scoops up a handful of suds and blows them at her face. “Mmm, is this peach?”

Rose looks lazily at the bottle of bubble bath. “Peach,” she confirms.

“Smells pretty good.” He smells his hands. “Nice.”

She smiles slowly. “I bet I smell nicer.”

He grins at her. “I bet you do.”

 

“I have a surprise for you,” he says later. They’ve fallen asleep in their bed, tangled together in scented soap.

“What is it?”

“We have to get up to show you.”

“Then I’ll wait.” Rose stretches and sighs in contentment. 

“No,” he insists, blowing kisses onto her neck. “We have to get up but you’ll love it.”

“Don’t want to get up.” Rose pulls the sheet up to her chin. “How about we stay here and eat takeaway instead?”

“That sounds lovely, and we will do it soon, but we do need to get going.” The Doctor stands up and starts collecting clean articles of clothing.

“Love, there is nothing that we need to do right away.”

He kneels by the edge of the bed and smiles down at her. “No, Rose Tyler, there definitely is.” 

So Rose gets out of bed, grumbling as she goes. A quick shower to wash the dried up soap bubbles out of her hair is first, of course.

“Where are we going?” she calls out from the bathroom.

He pokes his head in, grinning like a loon. “It’s a surprise.”

“Well, give me a hint.”

“No hints.”

“A small hint!”

“Nope.” He disappears and shuts the door.

Rose does her makeup and dries her hair. Wrapped up in a towel, she steps back to the bedroom and finds him reading a magazine.

“I thought you said we had to go!” she says in outrage.

“We do! I was waiting for you.” He jumps up. “Are you done? I really should wash my hair again.”

“Never mind your hair! Where are we going? What should I wear?”

“You’re beautiful in anything, Rose Tyler.” He draws her close and kisses her forehead.

“Thanks, but how do I know what to wear?”

“Casual is fine,” he says after a moment of deep thought. “Although something slinky underneath would not be unappreciated.”

“Really? _Who_ would be appreciating it? If I might ask?”

“Me, of course, and no one else.” He pauses in the act of heading to the bathroom. “I like your hair that way.”

He’s gone before she can reply. Rose’s hand goes to her hair, and then she turns to get dressed. He’s certainly in a cheerful mood tonight. Sometimes he gets moody and silent and it’s a bear to talk him out of it. Granted, they’ve gone through a lot recently - their injuries alone would take up a few days - but he is in a very happy mood.

Rose decides to enjoy it and be happy herself. She dresses in black trousers and a dark red blouse that is casual but also clingy and just a bit lower-cut than she normally wears. Her hair looks the same as always - blonde and straight. It falls to below her shoulders these days, and he’s told her repeatedly how much he likes it long. She brushes it back and puts on small silver hoop earrings. She has to dig around for shoes - the ones she was wearing today were a gift from Jackie, but she’ll never wear them again, not after running after so many small dogs.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

Rose turns. He’s still damp from the shower and doesn’t bother to finish drying off. He drops the towel and starts getting dressed with an efficiency that Rose doesn’t remember from before.

That is, before she fell through the Void and through to this world. He was a bit of a fussy dresser back then, with his suit just so and the (usually) perfect tie to match. Tonight he’s pulling on jeans from the floor and a green t-shirt that Jackie and Pete brought back from a trip to Spain.

“We don’t exactly match,” Rose says innocently, drawing his attention to her.

He looks at her carefully and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

She smiles back, absurdly pleased. “Thank you.”

“For a human,” he adds. “What d’you mean, we don’t match?”

“I’m clearly far better-dressed than you,” she points out.

“My jeans are clean.” But he covers his green t-shirt with a black sweater. “How’s this?”

She shakes her head. “That is an awful sweater. Where’d you find it?”

He looks down at said sweater. “I don’t know. Must have come from someplace, though, eh?” He pulls it off and looks at the label. “Of course. Your mum picked this out.”

Rose takes the sweater and peers at the label. She does remember Jackie picking this out now, the day they took him to Henriks for new clothes.

“Last time I let your mother take me shopping,” he adds. “Next thing you know I’ll be dressing like Pete.” Most of his clothes are dirty at the moment. He decides to stick with the t-shirt.

Rose sighs. The clothes may look silly, but he looks utterly handsome. How does he manage that at the same time? 

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m ready. For what?”

He smiles at her, a wide, excited smile that shows a dimple and makes her itch to kiss him. “You’ll see.”

 

“This is the university, right?” Rose asks as she gets out of the car.

“Correct, Rose Tyler.”

“What are we doing here?” As far as places to visit, this is really the last on her list.

“I have something to show you.” He locks the car and holds out his hand. Rose takes it, feels his fingers wrap around hers, a firm, comforting grip. 

She lets him lead her through the buildings. It’s dark and classes have already let out for the night, leading Rose to a surprising discovery.

“It’s later than I thought. We haven’t had dinner yet.”

“We’ll get some after.”

“After what?” she demands.

He’s led them to the planetarium. Swiping his employee card, he unlocks he door and ushers her inside. “Here we go. Right through here.”

The place is empty. Rose knows that he sometimes comes here at night to consult with the other scientists, but she doesn’t see anyone at the moment.

“Love, there’s no one here.”

“There’s us, Rose. Up these stairs, please. Watch your step.”

He urges her upwards, ignoring all her demands for information. “Keep going. Keep going. Ah! Here we go.”

They’ve stepped onto a platform. Rose looks around and then turns back to him. “This is a telescope.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” He rubs the telescope with an affectionate hand. “Not quite as ornate as Queen Victoria’s, though, eh?”

“Have you got a massive diamond hidden away somewhere?”

“Of course not. That’s in a museum. But here, Rose. This is what I wanted to show you.”

He makes some adjustments to the telescope and then flicks a switch. The dome of the building starts to open, and Rose finds herself gaping at the night sky.

“A nice clear night,” he says in satisfaction. “Perfect. It wasn’t easy to get this place to ourselves tonight, you know.”

“You arranged this? To have this empty?” Rose isn’t sure she understands.

“Not so much a matter of money as it was scheduling,” he says, peering through the telescope as he eases it upwards to look out through the roof. “It’s amazing how many scientists here have no home life.”

“Not to me,” she murmurs. She’s met a few of them.

“But some are amazingly romantic,” he finishes. “Come here.” 

Rose walks over to him. 

“Here.” He shows her where to look on the telescope. “Take a look.”

Rose looks and gasps. The night sky has swirled into stars and constellations, all winking in the dark.

“It’s beautiful,” she says in awe.

“They’re not the ones we know,” he says. “But they’re close. And someday maybe we can fly among them again.”

“It’s gorgeous.” Rose straightens up and smiles at him. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Here. A little modification I made.” The Doctor flips a switch somewhere on the telescope and takes off his jacket. Laying it on the ground, he sits down and motions for her to follow suit. Rose does. 

“Wait just a minute...ah! Here we go.” The dim lights leading the way to the telescope turn off, and suddenly the dome is lit with the images from the telescope.

“Oh!” Rose breathes, leaning back to take it all in.

“This way we don’t have to stand at the telescope,” he explains, pleased at her reaction. “We can watch them blink and move from here.” He settles onto his back and watches the stars complacently. “Lovely, isn’t it?”

Rose leans back as well, resting her head against his. “Watch them move?”

“A shooting star, right there.” He points and she follows his finger.

“I see it!” she says in delight.

“Just for you. Make a wish.”

Rose doesn’t have to, but she makes a wish anyway. The she turns to kiss him. 

“Did you make a wish?” he asks quietly.

She smiles. “You’ll see.”

They lay there for a long time, watching the stars and whispering plans for their future.

“New New New Earth,” Rose says softly.

“New new new new us,” he agrees.

Her hand finds his. Bringing their linked fingers to her chest, Rose raises her eyes to the stars again.


	20. Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna give it back to you

Donna strides into the Torchwood lobby swinging a briefcase. She’s got on her poshest black suit and highest-heeled shoes. Her hair has been blown-dried to a smooth shine, and her girlfriend Veena has just finished giving her advice on makeup.   
She is ready.

“Donna Noble,” she says briskly to the receptionist, having walked by the security guard directly to the front desk.

“How can I help you?” the receptionist asks. Below the reception desk, four separate cameras are taking images of Donna Noble and running them through an internal data bank.

“I’m here to see Rose Tyler.”

Only a faint lifting of the receptionist’s eyebrows gives away the fact that this is an unusual occurrence.

“Have you an appointment?” she asks. Down in security, the camera feeds are being analyzed and Donna Noble is found to be one human female with no criminal activity on her record.

“No appointment, but she’ll see me.” Donna speaks with a bit more confidence than she actually feels, but she’s chuffed that she’s made it this far. Torchwood is rumored to be incredibly secretive and incredibly hard to leave if they don’t want you to go.

“If you could just have a seat.” The receptionist indicates a seating area of leather-covered chairs a short distance away. Donna nods regally and has a seat, resting her briefcase on her lap. The security guard eyes her from beneath his cap.

Down in the bowels of security, the Doctor and Jake sit and watch her sit and wait.

“What could she want?” Jake asks. “I thought you didn’t tell her about the aliens.”

“I didn’t! As far as she knows, Sam and the others are humans who’ve just gone missing.”

“She looks pretty determined.”

“I don’t trust her,” Trevor, the chief of security says. “Shifty eyes.”

“Her eyes aren’t shifty!” the Doctor protests. 

“Shifty,” Trevor repeats. “Never trust a shifty-eyed woman.”

“You don’t trust any woman,” Jake corrects him. “That’s why you’re 35 and still single.”

“Open up, Trevor,” the Doctor advises. “Let love into your heart.”

Jake shakes his head. “That just turned me off as well.”

“What do you care? The last thing you’re likely to notice is a woman, shifty-eyed or otherwise.” The Doctor dials Rose’s number on the internal phone. “Rose! Come down to the lobby. I have a surprise for you.”

Rose walks down to the lobby, expecting a pleasant sort of surprise. Flowers, perhaps. Or balloons. If there’s a clown involved she will reach for the nearest weapon, but anything else will be welcome.

An image of the Doctor, down on one knee, is abruptly scrubbed as she steps in front of reception and sees Donna there.

Rose comes to a halt and sighs. “I should have known.” Her idea of a delightful surprise was bound to be different from the Doctor’s.

“She wanted to see you, Ms. Tyler,” the receptionist says.

Seven cameras total are taking images of Rose and Donna right now. Five people, including the receptionist, are ready and willing to take on Donna with various weapons if necessary. Another two are training weapons on her right now, in case she attempts to harm Rose. 

Rose smiles and waves a hand at Donna. The various personnel stand down, unseen and unnoticed and unknown by Donna.

“Hi, Donna,” Rose says. “What are you doing here?”

Donna stands up. “Is this really Torchwood?” she asks. “I thought there’d be aliens and guns and stuff.”

“There are,” Rose says seriously. “Just not in the front lobby. Come on.”

The Doctor is waiting for them when they reach Rose’s office. He stands up as they walk in, and again Donna feels an odd shifting sensation as she looks at him. Like she knows him but she doesn’t. She doesn’t know him, not at all, but she keeps reacting as if he’s a good friend. Shaking off the feeling, she looks around the room.

“This is your office?” Donna asks. “Shouldn’t you have something bigger? With windows and natural light?”

Rose shrugs. “It works well enough.”

“I thought your dad ran the show. Bit embarrassing, not having a nice office, isn’t it? You being punished for something?”

“What are you doing here?” the Doctor asks, sitting back down. Rose stands beside his chair, leaning her hip against the back of it.

Donna looks from him to Rose and back again before placing her briefcase on the desk and opening it.

“I’ve done some looking around,” she says.

“At what?” he asks politely.

“At records. Personnel records, birth records, that sort of thing.” Donna pulls out some papers.

Rose’s hand has been resting along the back of the chair. Her fingers were brushing the back of the Doctor’s head. At Donna’s words her fingers press down on his suddenly tense shoulder. 

“Records?” The Doctor’s voice is smooth and even. He knows that any paperwork belonging to Rose will pass scrutiny. Even his own documents, processed as they were by Torchwood, will be guaranteed authentic.

What concerns them both is the fact that his mother’s name, according to his birth certificate, is Donna Noble. Pete’s idea of a small joke at the time may be extremely difficult to explain.

Luckily, it turns out that it doesn’t matter.

Donna sets the papers down and looks at them. “Sam. Sam Lively, my boss. These all look real, but I don’t think they are.”

Rose leaves the Doctor’s side to pick up the papers Donna is pointing to. “Why don’t you think they’re real?”

“There is a Nocklyn in Cornwall,” Donna begins, and is interrupted by the Doctor.

“There is?” he says in surprise.

Rose shoots him a look.

“Of course there is,” he continues. “That’s where Sam is from, isn’t it?”

“There are no records of Sam there. Anywhere. His paperwork says one thing, but the records in Nocklyn say another.”

“And you know this how?” Rose asks.

“I did some research on the subject,” Donna says with some asperity. “Before I was a super-duper script editor I was a super-duper temp.”

“Best temp in Chiswick,” the Doctor says.

“Not now,” Rose murmurs.

“Yeah, I was,” Donna agrees. “And what I found was this: Sam Lively exists. I know he does, because I know him. But his records don’t make sense. I think they’re forgeries.”

“Why would they be forgeries?” Rose is looking through the documents even though she knows they are probably forgeries.

“Well, I don’t know. But I thought it’d be something you could figure out, with all your Torchwood resources here at your fingertips.” 

Rose sets the papers down. She turns and looks at the Doctor. Their time is up. They can’t keep her in the dark forever. She’s already seen too much.

The Doctor sighs and stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he does so.

“Donna. There’s something we need to tell you.”

 

“No,” Donna says. “No. No way. That’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not impossible,” the Doctor corrects her. “It’s all very possible.”

“My boss is an alien,” Donna says. “That is just not...actually,” she says, diverted for a moment, “that wouldn’t be a half-bad title. We could sell it to the Sci-Fi channel. Maybe a teen movie set in a fast-food place.”

“Hello? Focus, Donna.” The Doctor snaps his fingers at her.

She tables the idea for now. “You’re telling me that Sam is an alien? And that everyone at the studio is an alien?”

“His friend came to us in confidence,” Rose says. “She believes he’s in trouble, and he did go away without warning, yeah? It explains why all the studio people are gone.”

“They’re in hiding,” Donna murmurs, thinking back to the conversations she’s had with Derek and with others. 

“They’re all friends of Sam, and when he disappeared they got scared.”

“I don’t want to believe this,” Donna says. “It’s crazy.”

Rose and the Doctor wait. This is it. If this world’s Donna is anything like their Donna, she will rise to the occasion and be magnificent. If not...well, there’s always retcon to erase her memory.

“But it all makes sense,” Donna continues.

“It does?” Rose and the Doctor chorus.

“He’s so good at his job!” Donna leans forward across the table. “All his ideas about aliens and planets and things! Stuff no one else would ever have come up with! Of course!”

“Of course!” Rose and the Doctor chorus.

“So where did he go?” Donna asks. “Did he go home? Where is his home? What’s he doing here?”

“He hasn’t gone home,” Rose says. “At least, if he did, he didn’t go willingly.”

“We have no clues or theories right now,” the Doctor admits, “but Janet thinks that Sam was targeted. That by sharing his information about his home world he was endangering his people.”

“But Sam doesn’t make movies about one specific place,” Donna protests. “It’s always a new planet, a new species, a new time and place and new problems. How could you even hope to think of picking one to say it was real?”

The Doctor sits back. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “It’s a good theory, though.”

“So what do we do now?” Donna demands. “What’s our next step?”

“ _Our_ next step?” the Doctor says with a laugh. “You can leave this to the experts, Donna.”

“I don’t bloody well think so,” she snaps, all steel suddenly. “My boss. My friends. I help.”

“No,” he says.

“Yes,” she says.

“I said no.”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Rose intercedes to head off what could be the longest, most juvenile conversation between them she’s had to witness so far.

“We could use your help, Donna.”

“Rose,” the Doctor says warningly.

“Oh, come on!” she says. “What are we gonna do? Send her on home? She knows what’s going on. Better she’s here helping us than on her own.”

The reasonableness of this strikes the Doctor immediately, images of the potential damage Donna might do on her own coming to mind.

“Fine,” he says briskly. “Donna, we have nothing right now. But you will be our inside guy. Gal. Person.”

Donna nods excitedly, eyes sparkling. “You gonna deputize me or anything?”

“No, I’m not gonna deputize you,” he says, annoyed. “Honestly. Just get back to work and let us know what else you can find out on all these employees. I’m curious to know how many are aliens.”

“Well, it’s not like they’ll have that listed in their file.”

“You have ways, Donna,” he says meaningfully. “I know you do.”

She regards his for a moment. “You are daft,” she says. “But yeah. I do have my resources.”

“Excellent. Go use up those resources.”

Rose walks Donna out of the building. When she returns the Doctor has disappeared. Jake is in his place, tapping away on her computer keyboard.

“What are you doing?” she asks him. “Where’s the Doctor?”

“Oh, he went off somewhere,” Jake says vaguely, still typing. “Something about a clue.”

“A clue? To what? I was only gone five minutes!”

“Maybe he meant the game,” Jake says.

“What?”

“The game. Clue. You know, with Professor Peach and Lady Red in the library with a wrench.”

Rose stares at him for a long minute, all sorts of comments about parallel worlds and parallel games going through her mind. Finally she sits down. There are a lot of mission reports she needs to write.

“What was he doing?” Rose asks after a few minutes. “When he left?”

Jake looks up. “He was reading something on your screen.”

“On my screen?” Jake is still at her computer. She’s been sitting and writing out notes with a pencil.

“Yeah.”

Rose gets up and edges him out of the way with her hip. “Move.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

Rose is calling up the history on the computer hard drive. “Something came across,” she says absently. “What was he doing?”

She gets the answer almost immediately. “Ha!”

Jake looks over. “What is it?”

“A spike in radiation.”

“That could be anything,” Jake says, unimpressed with her deduction.

“Well, clearly the Doctor feels differently,” she says loftily.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so,” Rose says, and marches out.

 

Well. As exit lines go, that was a winner. Unfortunately, she can’t find the Doctor anywhere. He’s not in the building, and he’s not answering his mobile. She could drive to where that radiation spike hit, but he’d be just as likely to have left by the time she gets there.

“Bloody man,” Rose mutters to herself as she stands outside the building.

“Who is?” Anna asks, walking over. “Not that I really need to ask, do I?”

Rose smiles a greeting. “What are you up to?”

“Bringing back lunch. Are you looking for the Doctor?”

“Yeah,” Rose says, suddenly alert. “Have you seen him?”

“No, not since yesterday. You two made things up?”

Rose finds herself at a loss for words. “Made things...up?”

“You were all distant and awkward for a while. Are things better?”

Rose nods. “They are. Thanks for asking.”

“Are you coming tonight?”

“To what?”

“Knitting, of course.”

Rose sighs. “Yeah. I’ll see you after work.”

Janet’s words drift back to her. No matter how hard Rose tries, she cannot conceive of a reason to need to know how to knit.

 

After half an hour of knitting class, Rose is sure of it. 

She’s had an absolutely awful day. The Doctor never came back. She can’t get hold of Donna, and she has to sit and pretend to enjoy herself in the Torchwood cafeteria as Anna demonstrates some exotic kind of knitting stitch that has the other women oohing and aahing in admiration.

It doesn’t help that Riley is two feet into a scarf that looks almost professional. Rose is not by nature an envious person, but she can’t help but wish that she could improve just a little bit.

“Okay,” Anna says. “Before we do that stitch, let’s review. Make a slip knot and cast on.”

All around Rose, office drones and Riley make slipknots and cast onto their knitting needles. Rose makes a slipknot. So far, so good. The Doctor once took her to a planet where knots were the only means of fastening things together.

Okay. Casting on. Her knitting needles are a nice matte black. Her yarn is soft and pink. How hard could this be?

“Now knit a row and then purl!” Anna says from the front.

Rose turns to Riley. “Quick! What’s purl? Have we learned that yet?”

“And then bind off your stitches,” Anna says.

“Bloody hell,” Rose mutters.

“You’ve got it,” Riley says encouragingly.

“The only thing I’ve got is a mess,” Rose says, and it’s true. She can’t seem to manipulate the needles and yarn at the same time. Her fingers are tangled up in the yarn.

“Rose, do you need help?” Anna asks.

“No, I’m fine!” Rose says cheerfully. “Just getting the hang of it!”

Riley stifles a laugh and keeps at it.

“Riley, so help me-” Rose breaks off as the doors to the cafeteria open. It’s the Doctor, and she sighs in relief.

“Hello!” The Doctor gives a little wave to the women who are looking up at his entrance. “Just looking for Rose. Oh, there you are. Are you busy?”

“No! I’m coming!” Rose is already gathering up her yarn, trying to untangle the knots that have formed.

“If you’re not finished I can wait for you. It’s no-” The Doctor stops as Rose sprints up to the doors. 

“See you later!” she calls to her coworkers. “Duty calls!” She closes the doors and leans against them. Then she straightens up and kisses him, long and deeply.

“Mmm!” He gathers her in close and returns the kiss enthusiastically. “Hello.”

“You saved my life,” she says seriously. “Thank you.”

He’s disconcerted. “I thought you liked knitting.”

“Please.” She rolls up her pink yarn and thrusts it at him. “Take this.” 

He’s wearing his jacket with the Time Lord pockets. The yarn disappears. She holds up the black knitting needles.

“No way am I taking those instruments of death,” he says firmly, nodding to the needles.

“Time Lord pockets,” she protests.

“Uh uh.”

Her long hair is up in a ponytail. She adjusts the elastic so that her hair is now twisted in a knot, and she sticks the needles into her hair.

“Why are you doing that?” he demands. “You and Anna are determined to blind me.”

“Will you put them in your coat?”

“No way.”

“Then too bad. I left my bag in my office.” Rose buttons up her jacket. “Come on.”

“We’ll go get it.”

“No. You need to tell me where’ve you been.”

Keeping a wary eye on the needles - she does that all the time with pencils, but this seems more dangerous - he guides her to the exit with a hand at her back.

“I picked up some low-level radiation coming in from a few miles away.”

“And no one went with you? You’re not supposed to go off on your own.”

“I had a feeling this was something...different. The readings weren’t quite the same.”

“Yeah? And?”

His shoulders slump. “And...nothing. There was nothing there. I’ve spent the afternoon trying to trace it, but there was nothing left.”

“Well, then it was probably nothing.”

His mouth twists. “Probably,” he says ruefully. “You have a good day?”

They took the tube in that morning. Rose puts her arm through his as they walk to the station. “Nothing much happened after you and Donna left. Finished up some mission reports.”

“Ah. A very productive day, then.” While they wait for their stop he slips his arm around her, taking care to keep away from the pointy instruments of death that she’s got stuck in her hair.

Once they’re in their seats, Rose snuggles against him, heedless of the knitting needles. They come very close to scraping his chin. He backs away from them a bit, still determined to keep them out of his Time Lord pockets.

On the way home Rose’s phone rings. It’s Jackie.

“Hi, Mum,” Rose says carefully. They haven’t spoken since their last dinner together, when Jackie all but demanded a commitment from the Doctor on Rose’s behalf.

“Hi, sweetheart. This a good time?”

Rose glances at the Doctor, who rolls his eyes.

“Yeah. We’re just on our way home.”

“Your dad wanted me to call and apologize.” The words clearly do not come easily to Jackie.

“For what?” Rose asks.

“Oh, _Rose_. You know for what. I’m sorry to interfere in your lives. You two know what’s best.”

Well, that may be debatable, Rose thinks to herself with a silent laugh.

“Thanks, Mum. Don’t worry. We’re fine.”

“I’m not _worried_. I just-” Jackie breaks off. “All right, then, love. Tell himself I said hello. Are you still coming to dinner this weekend?”

“Of course.” Rose hangs up and pockets her phone. The Doctor is carefully avoiding looking at her.

“It’s okay,” she tells him. “Mum just wanted to say she was sorry.”

He nods. It’s still not a subject either of them is ready to revisit right then.

Rose’s eyes are closed. “What would you say to some takeaway?” she asks. 

“I would say...yes.”

He closes his eyes as well and reviews the day’s events. It’s not until the next morning that he figures it out.


	21. But I don't know you / Will you show me who you are?

“I got it, Rose!”

She mumbles around her toothbrush as she looks over her shoulder at him.

“I have finally figured it out. I’m a little bit embarrassed and chagrined that it took me so long, to be honest with you.”

Rose spits out her toothpaste and waits.

Seeing her look of exaggerated impatience, he hastens to explain what made him rush into the bathroom with a piece of toast still in his hand. 

“The low-level spike of radiation I went to investigate yesterday. Remember?”

“Yes. I remember yesterday. And I remember you taking off without a word while I was gone!” Rose points her toothbrush at him accusingly.

“The patterns for that part of London have been the same, Rose. Same levels of radiation, same time of day. Well, same time of day, relatively speaking. The time does fluctuate within a span of four hours, but it’s close enough to be called the same time of day.”

“So what’s that mean?” Rose is aware that she’s sounding a bit curt, but she’s wrapped up in a towel and if he doesn’t hurry things up they’ll be late for work.

“It means, Lewis, that we have to go back there.”

“What, today?”

“Not today. Right now. Get dressed!”

Rose tosses her toothbrush at his departing back.

 

The morning is cold and wet and dreary. The Doctor is oblivious to the weather. Rose gathers her coat more tightly around her and sighs. 

“There’s nothing here,” Rose says, waving around the scanner they borrowed from Torchwood.

“Not right now, no,” the Doctor agrees. He’s kneeling down some distance away, waving his own scanner. It’s one that he modified to his exact specifications. It’s not a sonic screwdriver, but it does let him look for things that the standard scanners don’t pick up. “But something should be coming across soon.”

That’s hardly a response. “But there’s nothing here now,” Rose says again. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“How sure?”

“Very sure.”

“It’s just that it’s cold and wet and I don’t see anybody here,” Rose says. “Or anywhere.”

He huffs his breath out impatiently. “I grant you, it’s just a hunch, if you will, but I looked up the readings last night, and based on the pattern, there should be another spike soon.” 

Rose doesn’t buy this in the least, but since they’re here she’s going to wait.

“Look,” he says suddenly. “There’s something out there.”

Rose squints. “Where?”

A large black cat jumps down from a trashcan, startling them both.

The Doctor swears under his breath. “Bloody cats!”

Rose watches the cat walk away. “We don’t seem to have much luck with them, do we?”

He shakes his head. “They’re just looking through the garbage right now. In a few thousand years they’ll be wearing wimples and conducting scientific experiments upon an innocent population.”

“Maybe not.” Rose looks around. “I don’t think this is gonna work, love.”

“Rose, let’s just give it some time.” He ducks to avoid a trickle of rain coming from a spout above his head. “The readings could have chosen a better place to come in from, though.” 

“There’s nothing here,” a voice says.

They both spin around. It’s Donna, dressed in a raincoat and boots and holding an enormous bright yellow umbrella.

“What are you doing here?” the Doctor asks, thoroughly caught off guard. 

“I followed you,” she says simply. “Come on.”

Rose and the Doctor splash through puddles and follow her to her car. Donna closes her umbrella and gets in.

“There’s a coffee shop down the street,” she says as she shuts the door. “Meet you there.”

Rose and the Doctor are left standing in the drizzle, looking at each other.

“What’s with the mysterious act?” Rose asks.

The Doctor shakes his head and takes her hand. “There’s a little too much mystery going on around here.”

They find Donna already at the coffee shop. Rose stops at the counter to order something. They’ve been frequenting a lot of these little shops lately. Maybe next time they can meet in an ice cream parlor. Or a pizza place. That would be nice.

“So why are you following us?” the Doctor asks.

Donna has taken off her coat. She sips from a styrofoam cup and looks smug.

“Donna,” he says warningly.

“Oh, relax, Dr. Smith. I did some digging at the studio yesterday. I have some things to show you.” Donna gives up the cool, calm and collected persona and smiles in excitement. “Wait ‘til you see!”

“Didn’t I read that the studio has some kind of pest problem?” The Doctor looks around for a newspaper to prove his statement.

“Oh, they exaggerated,” Donna assures him. “You know how the papers get. Here. Have a look.” She hands him a folder.

“What’s that?” Rose sits next to the Doctor, handing him a cup.

“I plotted out all the times Sam’s gone traveling,” Donna explains. “He doesn’t always go for work. There have been quite a few times when he left to visit his parents or for something else.”

“That would be the column in green?” the Doctor asks.

“Yeah. The blue column is for movie-related trips.”

“What’s the red column for?” Rose asks.

“For when he’s been in the studio,” Donna says.

“Why would you need to keep track of that?”

Donna shrugs, trying to look innocent. “Just for perspective.”

Twenty minutes later, they’ve gone over the dates of Sam’s trips and made a long list of notes on another page.

A waiter stops by. “Anyone need a refill?”

Rose shakes her head. “No, thanks.”

The waiter looks at the others, who have peered into now-empty cups.

“Coffee refills?” he prompts.

“Black coffee, three sugars, one cream,” Donna and the Doctor say together. They both look up from their papers.

“All...right.” The waiter backs away, looking at them oddly.

Donna looks at the Doctor. “What are you on?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s the idea, drinking what I’m drinking?”

“That’s how I drink coffee.”

“No, that’s how I drink coffee.”

“Are you accusing me of copying you?”

“What other reason can there be?”

“That’s how I drink coffee,” he says again, starting to get red in the face.

Rose knows why they have the same drink order, and it’s hardly the time or the place to be explaining it.

“That’s how he drinks his coffee,” she says hastily. “Coincidence, yeah?”

“Yeah.” The Doctor sits back and folds his arms across his chest.

Donna frowns and sits back. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a bit on edge, what with everyone gone and you lot claiming that they’re-”

“Aliens?” Rose supplies helpfully.

“Yeah. Aliens.” Donna looks down at her list. “I’m still not sure I completely believe you, even if you are Torchwood.”

“That’s why you should,” the Doctor says, leaning forward. “We know what we’re talking about.”

“There’s some other stuff I have back at the studio,” Donna says. “I wasn’t sure whether to bring it or not, but I think you should see it. Do you have time?”

Rose and the Doctor glance at each other.

“We do,” he says. “We’ll let our teammate know on the way that we’ll be late.”

 

Donna unlocks the studio’s front doors and lets them into the reception area. Rose studies the sign on the door curiously.

“Venusian spiders?”

Donna flushes. “I had to clear out the building.”

“But Venusian spiders?”

“What about them?” Donna asks with just a touch of belligerence. “They can get quite nasty.”

“Yeah, but they’re not real, are they? Sam did a movie about Venusian spiders, didn’t he?”

The Doctor turns to Rose, smiling proudly. “You were paying attention!”

“Of course!”

He laughs and kisses her. Donna rolls her eyes.

“Whatever. Nobody who was left here had any idea. I don’t think they actually watch the films we make. Anyway, come on. Sam has a locked cabinet in his office.”

“What, and you didn’t unlock it yet?” the Doctor can’t help asking sarcastically.

“It’s an invasion of his privacy.”

“And now?”

“And now he’s an alien, thank you very much! So we’re gonna open it and see what’s there!” Donna stomps down the hallway to Sam’s office, muttering under her breath.

“She tends to get very short with you,” Rose observes in a low voice.

He sighs as they follow Donna. “I think she’s responding to...to that part...in me.”

“Then she ought to be getting along with you, not wanting to slap you.”

“Maybe,” he says thoughtfully. “Maybe she just thinks I’m a prat.”

“That could also be it,” Rose agrees. “Just based on what I know of her,” she adds hastily, catching the look he’s giving her. 

“Are you coming or not?” Donna calls from inside the office. 

“Coming!” they call back.

“All right,” Donna says briskly. “Here it is.” She’s pointing to a small black cabinet in the corner of Sam Lively’s office. It’s about knee-high, with two small doors. There’s an orange lacquered design edging the doors and the top of it.

“It’s pretty,” Rose says, kneeling down to have a closer look.

The Doctor kneels down next to her, looking closely at the design. “This doesn’t look familiar. Could be from anywhere.”

“We’re not interested in the design,” Donna says. “Just what’s inside. Ready?”

Rose and the Doctor look away from the cabinet and up at Donna. She’s standing above them holding a hammer. Rose and the Doctor spring apart, leaping for opposite ends of the room.

“Oh, like I was gonna hit you both,” Donna says with an eye roll.

“You sure we ought to do this?” the Doctor asks from the corner, where he’s fallen in his haste to get away from Donna and her hammer. “This is private property. There may be nothing in there but some high-quality alcohol.”

Donna looks down at the hammer and then over at the Doctor. “Dr. Smith, normally I would never dream of doing something like this. But Sam is gone and so is everyone else. If I don’t figure out what’s happening we may all be in very big trouble.”

Rose sighs. “She has a point.”

“I know she has a point! It’s just...all right, Donna, let’s have at it.”

“Okay.” Donna hefts the hammer in hand, eyes fixed on the cabinet. “Could be some important stuff in there. Could be the reason Sam has left. Or it could be whiskey and soda. I don’t know.”

She sighs. She’s come this far and her boss is an alien. This is the only lead left to her. She slowly raises her arm and steps to the cabinet.

The rush of air is their only warning, the rush of air and a flash of blue energy. Dropping the hammer, Donna whirls around. The Doctor and Rose jump to their feet.

A man is standing there. Tall. Dark hair. Older than the Doctor but very attractive. He’s dressed in black trousers and a dark green shirt with long sleeves. His hands are on his hips, and he doesn’t look very happy.

“Who the hell are you?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam?” Donna says weakly.

He looks her way and blinks. “Donna? What the hell is going on?”

“We were...we were just...” Donna gives up and shrugs helplessly. “Dr. Smith?”

The Doctor steps forward. “Hello. I’m the Doctor. This is Rose. You, apparently, are Sam Lively. It’s a real pleasure to meet you - we’re big fans of your work.”

Rose nods her head. “Very much. We loved _The Atlantean Spidertrap_.”

“And the sequel,” the Doctor adds.

“The third movie wasn’t as believable, though,” Rose puts in.

“Yes, that one could have used some work,” the Doctor agrees.

Sam Lively looks at each of them in turn. “What are you doing in my office? Donna?”

“You disappeared,” Donna says in a rush. “Everyone’s gone and I’m the only one who seemed to think it was a problem and Dr. Smith and Rose thought there was something suspicious about it.”

“Everyone’s _gone_?” 

“Gone. They started leaving right after you left. Like they were afraid of something.” Donna is stretching the truth with that last statement, but now that she has a suspicion of what Sam’s up to she thinks it’s all right.

“I was working,” he says slowly. “Nothing suspicious about it.”

“No one could find you,” Donna points out.

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my office.”

Well, he has a point there. Donna searches for a response to that. “We were worried about you. Derek’s gone, so I thought we’d check your calendar.”

“Where’s Derek?”

“Gone with the rest of them.”

Sam Lively rubs his forehead. “Unbelievable.”

Rose suddenly takes a step forward and grabs Sam’s wrist. He tries to pull away. Rose yanks up his sleeve. 

“You’re a Time Agent,” she says.

“What?” He tries again to take his hand back.

The Doctor steps forward as well. “That’s a vortex manipulator,” he says slowly.

“It’s a watch.”

“A vortex manipulator,” the Doctor corrects him. “It allows you to travel through space and time by using the Time Vortex.”

“It’s his watch,” Donna says.

“Time Agents use those manipulators,” Rose says. “I’ve seen one exactly like it before. You’re a Time Agent.”

“I’m no such thing!” Sam snaps, finally succeeding in taking back his hand. “Donna-”

“You were working for the Time Agency. That’s why you were missing.”

“What’s a Time Agency?” Donna asks desperately.

“I don’t know who you are,” Sam begins, “but you are a bit off the mark.”

“The Time Agency uses agents to travel through time on missions they deem important and necessary. It was shut down in the 51st century,” the Doctor explains to Donna.

“It’s only the 21st century!” Donna protests.

“You need to leave,” Sam says. “Now.”

Donna looks from Sam to the Doctor to Rose and back to Sam. “What’s going on?” she demands.

“You _are_ a time agent!” Rose says. “Your manipulator is still working.”

Sam swipes a hand at his wrist.

Donna looks around and picks up the hammer she dropped earlier. Swinging it against a metal filing cabinet, the sound shuts them all up. “What the _hell_ is going on?” she demands loudly.

All three turn to her. She drops the hammer and glares at them. “Well?”

“I think your boss is a member of the Time Agency,” the Doctor says finally. “An agency that sends its agents through time and space. He travels by means of that device he has strapped on his wrist.”

“It would explain all of his absences,” Rose agrees.

“Time and space?” Donna says. “That’s impossible!”

“Donna!” the Doctor snaps. “You were willing to believe that he’s an alien, but not that he can travel through time?”

“You think I’m an alien!” Sam asks, staring at Donna.

“No!” she cries. “I mean, yes! It all makes sense, I mean! Everyone’s gone!”

“Everyone’s gone,” he repeats. “So of course they must be aliens!”

“Janet de Lancie came to see us after you disappeared,” Rose says. “She was worried about you. She told us the truth, and that people you know were disappearing. That the council on your world might have been behind your disappearance.”

Sam has been struck speechless. He tries to speak but can’t.

“So are you an alien?” Donna asks. “or aren’t you?”

“Who are you?” Sam asks, looking at the Doctor.

“I’m the Doctor. This is Rose Tyler. We work for Torchwood.”

Sam starts violently. “Of course! Torchwood! You lot see aliens everywhere you turn! Are you so desperate that you’re targeting innocent members of the community now?”

“Sam.” Donna says softly. “Just tell us the truth. They can help us.”

“We already know the truth,” the Doctor amends. “Just tell us your version. You know a lot about the Venusians and other means of travel.”

“My name is Sam Lively I’m a movie producer. Just a producer. ”

“Yes, I know that. But you're something else, aren’t you? You're not human. No human has the knowledge you have. So you’re either an alien or another alien is telling you the information and you’re using it in your films.”

“I don't know what you mean.” But he is clearly bluffing.

“Sam,” Donna pleads. “Please.”

“Donna, you can’t possibly think-”

“Janet came to us and told us what’s been going on,” Rose says. “Come clean so we can figure this all out.”

Sam sighs. “I’m a Time Agent,” he says finally. “I'm from Nocklyn, but I’m also a Time Agent. I was gone on a mission that couldn’t wait.”

Rose bounces up and down on her heels. “I knew it!” she says to the Doctor.


	22. Wanna know who you are / Wanna know where to start  /Wanna know what is real /Wanna know everything

Donna can’t stop staring at her boss. “It’s true. You’re an alien. And you travel through time.”

Sam coughs. “Yeah. Basically.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“Oh, it’s not _that_ unbelievable,” the Doctor begins. Rose elbows him in the side.

Sam sighs and sits down on his desk. “All right. Time to come clean, eh? I’m from a planet called Nocklyn. Just outside this solar system.”

“How long have you been a time agent?” the Doctor asks.

“Oh, years now. They recruited me when I was young and stupid. I came to this time and place on a mission. I liked it. Decided to stay.” Sam shrugs.

“And became a movie producer?” Rose asks. In her mind it’s an unlikely leap from time agent to movie producer. Although, if she imagines Jack in this position...she can’t quite stop the smile that crosses her face. Jack Harkness as a movie producer would be, well, hilarious. 

The Doctor is eyeing her like he knows what she’s thinking. Which he very well might. Rose keeps smiling and he gives in and grins back.

“He’d make the most horrific movies imaginable,” he tells Rose.

“I know.” Rose starts to laugh. “Like the time on Mor-”

Sam is looking closely at Rose. “What’s your name again?” he interrupts her.

“Rose. Rose Tyler.”

“Pete Tyler’s daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“He ever think of investing in the movie industry?”

Donna slaps Sam over the head with a file folder. “Focus for a moment! The studio’s shut down! Everyone’s gone and Mason Tate is looking for you!”

Sam looks horrified. “Mason Tate knows?”

“He knows you’ve been gone, you idiot!” Normally Donna would never, ever speak to her boss this way, but circumstances are a bit extenuating today.

“See, that doesn’t make sense!” Sam complains. “It was a routine assignment. Why you’re all getting worked up...” Sam’s voice trails off as he glances at his desk. “What’s the date?”

“You’re a _time agent_ ,” Donna says scathingly. “You don’t know?”

“Time agents are not born with an instinctual understanding of time,” the Doctor starts, but Donna cuts him off.

“Whatever, Dr. Lunatic.”

“How long have I been gone, Donna?” Sam is taking in the papers that are piled up on his desk. Scripts, memos, unopened mail, magazines...

“Four weeks.”

“ _What?_? No!”

“Four weeks,” Donna repeats pleasantly. “Maybe now you can appreciate the stress we’ve all been under.”

“Routine mission,” Sam mutters. “I was only supposed to be gone for a few hours.”

“Traveling through time can be very tricky,” Rose says sympathetically. She catches the Doctor glaring at her. “I wasn’t commenting on anyone’s driving skills,” she says indignantly.

“It’s an art form, Rose, and sometimes-”

“ _Sometimes?_ All the time, try.”

“Anyway,” the Doctor says, dragging back the conversation to the proper note with an effort, “you’ve been gone a while and we’ve caught Donna up. Now why don’t you tell us what you know?”

Sam is still in shock. “Four weeks,” he mutters. He walks around the desk to collapse in his chair.

“This has never happened before?” Rose asks, moving to stand in front of the desk. “Lost time, getting lost, coming home late?”

“No, never.” Sam looks up. “Donna, could you open that cabinet for me?”

Donna looks at the cabinet she was about to smash open with a hammer. “Er...”

“Just touch the side,” he says.

Donna does so and the doors spring open. Inside are three shelves filled with small glass bottles. She picks one up and hands it to Sam. Behind her, the doors close as if on a spring.

“Thanks.” Sam unscrews the top and drinks the contents of the bottle in one gulp. “Liquidized protein from my home planet,” he explains to them. “I need it sometimes. We can live in your atmosphere but it’s very trying on our lungs. This helps us maintain our systems.”

“Yes, that’s wonderful to hear.” Donna sits down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Now can someone explain what happened?”

“Your friend Janet was worried for your safety,” the Doctor says bluntly. He sits down on another chair. “She was afraid that the council on your world had disposed of you.”

“The council,” Sam says under his breath.

“What is that, exactly?” Rose drags an extra chair over to sit beside the Doctor.

“My planet is very insular,” Sam says. “We come and go, of course, everyone does. Movement from planet to planet is quite common. When I came to Earth, a few friends and family members followed me. All quite ordinary. But when I had the idea for a movie, and then I became famous and the movies gained more notice, the council got worried.”

“But why?” Donna asks in confusion. “If they were movies, everyone had to know they weren’t real.”

“Well of course they weren’t real. But they were based on events I had seen while working. Things that had happened, or will happen in the future. Nocklyn got very scared that I would reveal something at the wrong time. They feared exposure, especially because so many of us were working here at the studio.”

“Is Mason Tate an alien?” Donna whispers.

“No. He’s human.”

“And do you think the council is involved somehow?” Rose asks him.

Sam shrugs and leans back in his chair. “I doubt it. But I don’t know what else it could be. Someone sabotaged my manipulator somehow. It’s never been off by so much time before.”

Rose nods slowly. “Your vortex manipulator. And Janet said that your car was filled with oxygen before you left this last time.”

Sam shifts in his chair. “Yes.”

“Anything else happen?”

He frowns. “Maybe one or two things. Things I didn’t think anything about at the time.”

Rose sighs. This seems to be a bit of a mess. Looking at Sam, then looking at Donna looking at Sam, she draws a few, non-dangerous-council-related conclusions. Sam is tall, handsome, famous and powerful. Her dad is all of those things, of course, but Sam’s hair is thick and dark, with some grey thrown in. If Donna has any personal feelings for him, it wouldn’t be surprising.

The Doctor is thinking hard. “Either the threat is something from the agency or from that ruling council. Either way, you’re not safe here.”

“It could be from something else, you know,” Donna says, annoyed. “Just because those two are the most obvious doesn’t mean that’s it.”

“What else could it be?” the Doctor demands.

“Well, I don’t know! You two are the alien experts!”

“Thanks, Donna, you’re being very helpful,” the Doctor says in mild exasperation.   
“I’m as safe here as anywhere, no matter who’s behind this,” Sam says. “It’s harder to break through the security measures I’ve installed here. Anyway. Who’s left?”

“Janet,” Rose says.

“Who else?”

“As we’ve said,” Donna says, barely managing to keep her patience, “they’re gone. All of them. Poof.”

“They’ve done a runner,” Rose says bluntly. “Janet thinks they’re next.”

“Next. Next for what?”

“For whatever happened to you.”

“Nothing happened to me. I was on a mission.”

“No one knew that. Not even Janet.”

“You’ve not told anyone, have you?” the Doctor asks.

“No. It’s not the sort of thing we advertise.” Sam glances around. “So you’re the only one left here?” he asks Donna. “Where’s Clive?”

“He’s gone, too.”

Sam sighs. “I thought Clive of all people would stay.”

“Why?” Rose asks. “Is he a time agent, too?” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Clive is an idiot. He should never have left his family’s house. He gets lost on the motor way. Still. He’s not one to run away without a fight.” He stands up. “We need to find Janet.”

“All right,” Rose agrees.

“But first I need to go home and change.”

 

Sam lives in a very posh flat in a very nice part of London. A valet takes Rose’s car and whisks it away someplace, and the doorman at the entrance stares hard at each of them before allowing them admittance into the lobby.

“Very nice,” the Doctor murmurs, looking around at all the black and white marble. “What do you think?”

“What, for us?”

“Yeah. Good security, nice location. Your mum would be over the moon.”

“You _are_ joking, yeah?” Rose has to check on that point, because if he really thinks is the kind of place she wants to live in, she’ll have to have his brain scanned for damage.

“Yeah, I’m joking.” The Doctor holds the door to the lift open for her. “This isn’t exactly...” His voice trails off as he notices Sam listening with an expression of exaggerated interest. “This is a very nice building,” he finishes.

“I doubt you could afford it,” Sam says flatly.

The Doctor isn’t man enough to be stung by that. If he wants something he’ll figure out a way to get it. A flat in this pretentious, ostentatious building isn’t something he wants.

“Government employees don’t make very much,” he agrees blandly.

Rose rolls her eyes. She’s glad, most of the time, that he doesn’t always understand everything a normal human male would understand.

“Here we go.” Sam glances at them. “Top floor.”

“Of course,” the Doctor murmurs.

“Shh,” Rose whispers.

Sam unlocks the door. “Come on.” He walks inside and turns on the lights.

“This is very nice,” Donna says, looking around at the open room. It’s done in shades of blues and browns, and she fancies it immediately.

Sam takes a few steps in and stops suddenly, a sharp exclamation stopped almost before he’s started speaking.

Janet de Lancie is sitting there in his living room, legs crossed and hands folded primly in her lap.

“You took your time,” is her greeting to him.

“Hi,” he says, caught off-guard. “What are you doing here?”

She shakes her head and stands up. “You idiot. How do you think I’m here? I finally saw you. When you’re out of our time I can’t see you, but once you returned I could trace the path you were taking.”

“What’s she talking about?” Donna whispers to the Doctor. “Is she some kind of new-ager?”

“Something like that,” he whispers back. “She can see the future.”

“No way.”

“Well, she’s an alien. Who knows what they can do?”

“Where were you?” Janet is asking Sam. They’re standing very close together. Rose notes again that Sam is tall and very good-looking, even in wrinkled clothing. Janet is also tall, and rather attractive. Glancing over at Donna, Rose sees that Donna has also noticed this, and is watching Sam and Janet with slightly narrowed eyes. The Doctor appears oblivious to any undertones in that conversation. No surprise there.

“I was on a mission. I was only going to be gone a few hours. Someone tampered with my vortex manipulator.”

“Someone,” Janet says.

“Hold on,” Rose interrupts. “Janet, you knew he was a time agent?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t mention it to us?”

Janet looks confused. “Time agents do not operate on Earth. You would not have understood.” 

“Oh, we would have understood! And it would have made a lot more sense!”

Janet shrugs. “I needed your help, and I needed to keep Sam’s cover safe. I’m sorry for lying to you.”

“That doesn’t matter now,” Sam says. “What matters is that we still don’t know who’s behind it.”

“We need to find out,” Janet says. “That’s why we’re here.”

“I don’t have time to find out! I have a movie to make!”

“Never mind your movie! Our people are in hiding. You are in danger. I can see that much!”

“We can’t live our lives in fear.”

“It’s either live in fear or go home. If you’re not willing to solve this there will never be an end for us.”

“Janet-” Sam runs a hand through his hair.

Janet turns to the Doctor and Rose. “Well, he’s back. Thank you for finding him.”

‘They didn’t find me. I found them, in my office.”

“Even so. Can you help us?” Janet asks Rose. “We need to discover who is behind this.”

“I _told_ you, I have a movie to make. I’ve already lost four weeks. I need to call Mason.”

“Mason!” Janet cries. “Your friends and family - my friends and family - aren’t coming back to make your movie until they know it’s safe! What would you have us do?”

The Doctor drops down onto a brown leather chair. He swings his legs up over the arm and smiles. “I think we can do both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time I wrote this I was in the middle of watching Stargate, the series. I pictured Sam looking like Richard Dean Anderson around season 4, when he was still an active cast member and fit and working the UST with Carter.


	23. I'm not afraid of anything even time

“I have some things I need cleared up,” Rose says, switching on the living room lamp.

The Doctor looks up from his laptop, blinking in the sudden light. “Are you up already?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Rose sits down on the couch beside him, drawing her legs up underneath her. 

“Why not?” He sets the laptop aside and gives her his full attention.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

He sighs. “Rose. We’ve gone over this. What’s got you so worried?”

It’s only 5:16 in the morning. Beyond the windows of the flat, the sky is still dark. Rose draws a nearby blanket around her shoulders, trying to stay warm. “It’s all got me worried,” she says bluntly. “I don’t think this is such a good plan.”

He actually looks hurt by this. “It’s a brilliant plan, Rose. Sam said so. Your father said so.”

“Dad did not say it was brilliant.”

“No,” he admits. “But he said it might actually work, which is almost the same thing as brilliant.” He tries out a smile on her, a smile that might have worked under other circumstances.

She stares at him steadily, and he finally leans back against the couch. “All right, then. Let me have it.”

“How do we know whoever is behind Sam’s accidents will show up?” Rose asks instantly. “How do we know that all of his employees will return to work? What if no one is willing to trust him? What if something goes wrong on our end?” She’s getting warm just thinking about all the things that could go wrong. 

“Rose.” He reaches over and shoves aside the blanket that she’s dragged from her shoulders. “We can make this work. That’s what today is all about.”

She doesn’t answer.

“We’ve been through a lot worse than this,” he says. “Why is this so different?”

She shrugs, taking his open arms as an invitation to move into them. “I don’t know. It’s just so big. I don’t think we’ve ever done such a large operation before.”

“Well, luckily, I’m here.” He kisses the top of her head. “Nothing can go wrong with me around! Let’s see if the paper’s here. Maybe Janet has some words of advice for us.”

“If she does, she could just tell us in person,” Rose says in amusement.

“Oh, that’s no fun.” He brings the newspaper into the flat and shakes it open with a flourish. “Here we go.” He turns to the horoscopes and stills.

“What’s it say?” Rose asks, leaning against his arm to see.

_“Be careful.”_

They exchange an uneasy look.

 

That morning, Rose signs off on her current duties at Torchwood. Mission reports all current, emails all answered. Papers all filed. She surveys her desk with satisfaction. It hasn’t been so clean in ages.

“It’s nice to be efficient, isn’t it?” Jake asks from the doorway.

Rose smiles at him. “It is! Something I should have done a long time ago.”

“Well, don’t worry. We’ll have paperwork again in no time, I bet.”

“We will, won’t we? We didn’t have so much to deal with before, did we? When we were first starting out here.”

Jake nods. “Things were easier when we had Cybermen to deal with. Ready?”

Rose shuts down her computer. “Ready.”

The main Torchwood conference room is full of people. The Doctor is at the front of the room, his laptop ready with a presentation. Simon stands beside him, shuffling through some papers. Riley and Ian are there, sitting at the table. Other Torchwood personnel are also present, ready to find out what’s so important that they’ve been removed from their current duties.

As she stands there Rose makes a mental note of the people. Jackson and Marshall, from one of the other field teams, a few office drones from various paper-pushing departments, Travis from security - Rose’s mental note-taking stops abruptly as she sees Maria from personnel. She’s sitting with her back to the wall of windows, knitting what appears to be a large blue afghan. Maria started to knit in Anna’s class, the same time as Rose. 

“Who are you glaring at like that?” Jake asks in her ear.

“No one,” she says hastily.

Rose walks in and has to sidle past people standing against the wall. The seats at the table are all taken. She bumps into someone and starts to apologize when she sees that it’s her dad.

“Good morning,” she says. “You here, too?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says ruefully. “I’m starting to have second thoughts, though.”

“If anyone can pull it off, the Doctor can,” Jake says.

“I know,” Pete responds. “I know.” 

“Rose, you’re here.” The Doctor sounds delighted by this. “Come on in. Jake, you’re here, too. Good. Is everyone else here?” he asks the room at large.

“We’re all here,” Simon answers. “Who else are you expecting?”

The Doctor glances around the room. “I think you’re all here. If not, well, we’ll fill them in later. Okay!” He smiles at them all impartially. “Welcome. Thanks for taking time away from your busy work schedules.”

This comment makes several people laugh out loud. Only the sudden realization that Pete Tyler is in the same room with them keeps the laughter from getting out of hand.

The Doctor notices Pete in the back. “Pete, you want to have a seat up here?”

Several people start to stand as he asks the question. Pete shakes his head. 

“You’re all fine. Carry on.”

The Doctor is prepared and ready. “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here today,” he begins.

Someone groans, and he sends a stern frown in the general direction. “As I was saying. We have a special undercover operation to set up. It’s more involved and complex than we’re used to. We’re going to need all of you here today to make sure it runs smoothly.”

“Are you going to tell us what it is?” Simon asks. “Since we’re here.”

The Doctor nods briskly. “Rose and I have been investigating a movie producer for some time now. He went missing, along with many of his employees. We were given reason to believe that he was an alien.”

“What reason?” Riley asks. She’s taking notes on a pad of paper, and the Doctor is visibly annoyed to be cut short so soon into what is clearly going to be an impressive lecture.

“What?”

“What reason?” Riley asks him, pen in the air. “Were you given?”

“We were told that he’s an alien,” the Doctor says testily.

“Who told you?”

“He did.”

“I thought he was missing?”

“He came back,” the Doctor says patiently. “Riley, do you mind?”

“Go ahead.”

“Right. Anyway. As I was saying. I became suspicious of this producer - we’ll call him Sam - when I noticed that the science-fiction movies he was involved in, either as a producer or a director, were amazingly detailed and accurate. As circumstances turned out, we were able to verify that he was indeed an alien.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” One of the office drones raises an hand. Rose doesn’t know who he is, unusual for her. “How do you know that the science-fiction movies he made were detailed and accurate?”

The Doctor stares at him, caught off-guard. It is, after all, common knowledge that he is himself an alien. Well, half-alien.

“There were details that were historically correct, even though they hadn’t occurred yet.”

“How could they be correct if they hadn’t occurred yet?”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor says politely. “Who are you?”

“Mark. From Accounting.”

The Doctor consults a sheet of paper and frowns. “Mark. Right. Well, I need you Mark, so you’re going to have just to accept what I say as fact. I have a more thorough knowledge of aliens than anyone else here, and that includes aliens in the past, present and future. Any other questions?”

Mark from Accounting looks confused. Ian leans across the table. 

“How long have you worked here, mate?”

“This is my first week.”

“I’ll explain it later,” Ian tells him, wondering just what the Doctor needs an accountant for.

The Doctor has paused, waiting for other comments. None are coming, though the room’s occupants are clearly paying attention.

“He is from a planet called Nocklyn, one galaxy over from our own.” The Doctor hits a key on his laptop, and a display of the next galaxy appears on the presentation screen. “That’s the planet, that little blob of green. He was recruited by the Time Agency as a youth, and has been working for them ever since.”

“Time Agency?” someone asks.

“Yes. The Time Agency was formed in the fifty-first century-” The Doctor pauses. “Well, in my last universe, it was formed in the fifty-first century. I’m not certain when it was formed here. Its agents travel through time, performing certain tasks. I can’t guarantee that it is a benign agency, in and of itself, but the agents do the work they’re assigned.”

Rose happens to be looking in the general direction of Mark from Accounting. “His _last universe?_ ” Mark from Accounting whispers.

“I’ll explain later,” Ian assures him.

Mark from Accounting does not look reassured at all. He may in fact be regretting his recent career choices.

“How can they travel through time?” Jackson asks.

“They use something called a vortex manipulator,” the Doctor explains. “Don’t worry, that’s not something you need to know. What you do need to know is that this man has been working for the Time Agency. Using the knowledge he’s gained throughout the years on his missions, he took the opportunity to write a screenplay years ago while he was here on Earth. It sold, was made into a movie, and he’s been making movies ever since.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Sam Lively. He makes science fiction films, for the most part. Any of you heard of him?”

A murmur runs around the table. It’s a name most of the people are familiar with.

“Didn’t he make _Terror Beneath the Center of the Earth?”_ Riley asks.

The Doctor stares at her, never having suspected she had an interest in sci-fi movies. “Yes, he did.”

“He won a Spock for that one,” Jake says solemnly.

“Yeah, he did, he - hang on.” The Doctor turns to Rose. She smiles at him.

He’s not going to ask what he so obviously wants to. He settles for fixing her with a stern glare, which she responds to with a wink. He can suspect that she’s put their friends up to it, but she will never admit to it.

“Hang on,” Jackson says. “He’s an alien?”

“Yep.” 

“Then his movies are all true? Even the one about those radioactive spiders that can kill you with sound waves?”

“Venusian spiders,” the Doctor elaborates. “That’s not exactly how they kill, but it’s close enough.”

“Disgusting,” Maria from personnel says.

“Well, even Venusian spiders have to eat,” the Doctor says fairly. “Now. Any other questions? No? Good. Now you all have a point of reference to refer to. Sam Lively settled on Earth, in this time and place, and continued to make movies. He brought friends and family over - many of them work with him.”

“There are aliens living here, in London?” Ian says in surprise. “Right here?”

“They live quietly,” Rose says quickly, and all heads turn to look at her. “Their goal is to have a nice life, not to conquer us or anything.”

Ian, as well as a few others, looks unconvinced. The Doctor continues. 

“People on his home planet became aware of his movie making. They became...concerned that he could be revealed to be an alien - the things that happen in his movies are all accurate, even though some of them have not happened in real time yet. The ruling body on his home planet requested that he cease making movies. He didn’t. There have been several threats on his life. In his most recent mission for the Time Agency, we suspect that someone tampered with his vortex manipulator to make him arrive at the entirely wrong time.”

“I thought he was making movies,” someone protests. “He’s a time agent as well?”

“Pay attention. He continues to work for the agency,” the Doctor admits. “During his absence, which lasted weeks instead of the intended hours, his fellow aliens became nervous and disappeared. We were contacted by a friend of his, who was concerned that he had been harmed in some way.”

“The main thrust of all this,” Pete says, walking around to the front of the room, “is that we’ve agreed to help Mr. Lively. In exchange for our services while they film their movie, we gain valuable information about alien life forms out there. We will capture whoever is attempting to harm him and interrogate them.”

“To what end?” Travis from security asks. 

“If they’re willing to harm someone living on Earth from their own planet, they may be willing harm us. Torchwood is going to stop that from happening.” Pete pauses and looks around the room. “I’ve given the Doctor permission to lead this mission, unusual as it may be. He’s chosen each of you for a specific reason. If you want to back out, now is the time.”

No one offers to back out.

The Doctor grins. “Excellent. “Let’s talk about carpooling.”

 

“All right,” Sam says, standing at the front of the studio’s conference room. “Are we all here?”

“We’re all here,” Clive answers.

Sam shoots him a look. He’s not happy with how Clive - his partner - handled his absence. Instead of rallying the troops, assuring them that everything would be fine, Clive ran like a coward, thereby allowing everyone else to run and hide as well. If it hadn’t been for Janet asking the Doctor and Rose Tyler for help, Sam would have returned to an empty studio and looming bankruptcy.

Brushing away thoughts of Clive - he’ll deal with him later - he looks at each of the people seated at his mahogany conference table. Friends and relatives, each one. Dependent on him for jobs and safety and income. He’s dependent on them for reliable labor.

“We need to finish the movie,” he says. “I can’t hold off Mason Tate forever. If we don’t compete this deal we’ll be broke.”

“So what’s the problem?” his second cousin Anne asks. “We can make the movie. We have a script and a cast.”

“The problem is that someone is still trying to get rid of me, for reasons that are still unclear.”

“I thought we’d taken care of that,” she says in annoyance. “How can we work if we’re all waiting to see who disappears next?”

“Annie, I’ve told you, I didn’t disappear. I left and was not able to return in time. Now. There is one...small item that does mean we’ll need to change how we do things. Just for this current project.”

The looks turned upon him are suspicious.

“There was a threat sent here this morning,” Sam admits.

The fallout is just what he expected. Everyone starts talking at once.

“Calm down! You all know the risks! The council isn’t happy with me. I can’t believe that they would resort to threats and violence, though. Right now I have to assume this is something else.”

“How will we know for sure?” Doris from costuming demands. Another cousin. 

“We won’t. Not yet. That’s why we have to go forth.”

“Is it safe?” Curtis asks worriedly. Mother’s sister-in-law’s nephew by marriage, and a right pain. “If threats have been made...”

“I have that under control,” Sam reassures the room. “Torchwood will be helping us.”

The uproar is all that he could have hoped for.

“They’ll attack us!”

“We’ll be deported!”

“We’ll be killed for study! Sam, you can’t be serious!”

“I am serious! They have the resources to help uncover who’s behind this.”

“And once they uncover who’s behind this they’ll lock them up along with us!” Anne snaps.

Sam keeps his temper with an effort. It is not acceptable to yell at females of your own family, but he’ll be making an exception very soon if these people don’t calm down.

“I have friends there,” he says. “I trust them.”

“Who?” Doris asks. Sam is reminded, again, that while he may be vital and productive and successful, Doris is older than he is and still prone to thinking of him as an infant with a runny nose and sagging nappy.

“He’s called John Smith. He’s a scientist. And he’s with Rose Tyler. She-”

A young woman seated nearby draws in her breath with an audible gasp. “Rose Tyler? _The_ Rose Tyler?”

“Yes, Fiona, Rose Tyler,” Sam says patiently. Fiona is not related to him. She’s just a sweet young girl who wanted to see Earth and loves to act in his movies. Sam went to school with her mother.

“John Smith is that handsome bloke she’s always walking around with?” Fiona asks.

“Oh, he’s not so handsome,” Derek says swiftly. He’s had a crush on Fiona for years now.

“He is so handsome,” Fiona says back. 

Sam looks around to the door. Where is Donna? How had he never appreciated how sane and calm she is? A far cry from the insanity that his staff engaged in all the time.

“That is John Smith,” Sam says firmly. “I leave it to all of you to decided whether or not he is handsome. Torchwood operatives will be coming to the studio. They’ll be helping us during filming.”

“As security?” Clive asks. He’s plainly angry that Sam didn’t see fit to clue him in on his plan. Well, tough for Clive. It’s Sam’s name on the door, and his reputation in the line. If Clive wanted to be involved he wouldn’t have run off to Spain at the first sign of trouble.

“Some will be doing security for us,” Sam allows. “And others will be doing other things.”

“Such as?”

Sam is saved from answering by a tap on the conference room door. Donna opens it. 

“Mr. Lively, they’re here.”

 

“There is absolutely no way that I am agreeing to this!” Clive yells angrily.

“This is the only way,” Sam says patiently. “It will work.”

“How will it work? These people know nothing about the movie industry!”

“They don’t need to know anything about the movie industry! They know about aliens!”

“How is that going to help us?”

“Oh, you’d be amazed at what we know about aliens.”

The two men whirl around at the sound of the Doctor’s voice. They’re in Sam’s office, standing toe to toe and yelling at the top of their lungs. The Doctor had walked right in and observed them in amusement, hands stuck in his pockets, before finally speaking.

“My people know what they’re doing,” he says. “We can help you.”

“What can you do that any undercover security firm couldn’t do?” Clive asks.

“Well, we won’t panic at the mention of aliens.”

“And that’s something else,” Clive adds. “How can we trust these people?”

“If we wanted you for capture or for study or for deportation, you’d already be gone,” the Doctor says coolly.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Clive, enough,” Sam says tiredly. “They’re here to help us. Get over it.”

Clive sets his jaw. “Fine. I’ll cooperate, of course. As long as the movie gets made.”

“It’ll get made,” the Doctor says. “And we will find out who’s responsible for all of your accidents. We have alien detectors armed and ready.”

“Alien detectors,” Clive says in disgust.

“Clive, I swear, if you weren’t my brother-”

“I have a lot of work to do,” Clive says stiffly. “I’ll be in my office.”

Sam meets the Doctor’s eye after Clive has left. Sam shrugs.

“Family business. I can’t kill him, and if I fired him he’d go to another studio and be a direct competitor.”

“Families can be complicated,” the Doctor says noncommittally. “Are you ready to put them all together?”

Sam hesitates. Really hesitates. He’s having second and third and fourth thoughts about this. To let Torchwood in is extremely risky. The only reason he agreed was because Janet contacted them first. If it were up to him he would have gone on by himself and hoped for the best. 

“Sam?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The Doctor smiles happily. “Excellent.”


	24. Sometimes I feel like something is gone here /Something is wrong here, I don’t belong here

The conference room is positively stuffed with people. Movie people and Torchwood people sit side by side. It’s easy to tell who’s who. The movie people all shrink away from the humans with the power to do all sorts of unmentionable things to them. The Torchwood operatives, for their part, look like they’re enjoying themselves quite a bit.

Sam and the Doctor stand side by side at the front of the room. Rose and Donna sit nearby. Rose shares a conspiratorial glance with Donna.

“Welcome to Sam Lively Productions,” Sam begins jovially. “We’re, er, happy to, glad you’re here. To help.”

“Be nice,” Donna whispers from behind a sheet of paper. 

Sam ignores this. “We are taking a huge risk, asking for help like this, but since it’s been offered and there’s no way to go back to being anonymous, we accept it.”

“Thanks for that gracious endorsement,” the Doctor says sardonically. “Quite moving, actually.”

“We are behind schedule on our latest film,” Sam continues, explaining to the Torchwood people what his staff is already very much aware of. “My detour lasted a lot longer than it was supposed to, and we need to catch up. To that end, and to protect us as much as we can during production, you have agreed to fill some slots in my production crew.”

“What spots?” Derek asks instantly.

“You’re still my assistant, Derek,” Sam answers patiently.

“But what spots?” he persists.

“We’re getting to that.” Sam turns to Donna. “Do you have the list?”

“Why does she have the list?” Anne wants to know. “She’s just a script editor. And a human.”

You do not hit females, Sam chants to himself. No matter how much you want to. He’s wanted to, off and on, since they were children together on Nocklyn. Anne is better than a sister that way.

_“Donna,”_ he stresses, “has the list because she stayed when the rest of you ran in fear. She kept Mason away until I returned and made sure things didn’t fall into absolute chaos. Which is why she has the list, and will soon have a promotion and a pay rise.”

Rose looks at Donna as this is said. Donna turns pink with pleasure and smiles.

“You deserve your own assistant after all you’ve done,” Rose whispers to her.

“Okay. Dr. Smith will now bring you all up to speed.” Sam waves a hand and the Doctor takes his place at this bizarre press conference.

“So. This is your staff.” The Doctor puts his glasses on and scans the assembled group. “So how many of you lot are aliens?”

Silence.

“How many?”

Slowly, they raise their hands.

“That’s not very many,” Rose observes.

“We never gather in the same place at the same time,” Sam says. “These are the ones who’ll be working most closely with the movie. Apart from the crew and actors, of course. They’re not coming in until tomorrow. That’s the first read-through and rehearsal.”

“Well. Let me just start again, then. Good morning! I’m Dr. John Smith. Torchwood. You can call me Doctor. This is Rose Tyler.” He turns to Rose, who obligingly waves a hand. “We were called in by a friend. From the sound of it she was the only one of your people left in London after Sam disappeared.”

Sam glares at his friends and relations. They all shift in their chairs.

“It’s easy for Janet,” Fiona says sulkily. “She can see the future.”

“Jealous,” Anne murmurs.

“Aren’t you? She got all the psychic powers in your family, didn’t she?”

“I don’t need psychic powers. I can move objects with my mind.”

“Shut up!” Donna says without thinking. “Can you really?”

“No demonstrations, thank you!” Sam says hastily. Anne can move objects with her mind, but not very well. It’s the reason she came to stay with him on Earth instead of remaining home and teaching at one of the universities. Her talents simply never developed enough.

The Doctor clears his throat. “Janet contacted us and told us her suspicions. She was correct. We’re going to be undercover here. If there is someone trying to harm you, or sabotage the production, we will find them.” He pauses and looks around the room. “Assuming that’s what you want.”

“Of course it is,” Clive snaps. “We need to know we can work in peace, without wondering what’s going to happen next. All we need is another room pumped full of oxygen or something.”

“Right.” The Doctor turns to Donna. “Donna?”

“Dr. Smith.” She hands him the list she’s been holding.

“Just ‘Doctor’,” he corrects her.

The look she gives him is clear. ‘Doctor’ is not a proper name, and she’s not going to call him that.

He gives up on that for now and shakes the sheet of paper in his hand. 

“Are you sure everyone here can be trusted?” Clive asks nervously.

“We’re Torchwood,” Simon snaps.

“Exactly,” Clive shoots back.

“You’re asking us to trust humans,” Derek adds. “We’ve kept our secret for years.”

“Until you all got threatened and disappeared,” Simon points out.

“We would have taken care of it!”

“You _left!_ ”

Donna thumps her coffee cup on the table. Everyone jumps.

“Enough, thank you,” she says.

“Who are you to give us orders?” Clive asks furiously. “You’re _human!_ ”

“I may be human,” Donna says, carefully enunciating every word, “but I am the only one who was left when you all ran away.”

“We didn’t run away.”

“Looked that way to me.”

“Clive,” Sam says. “It’s done. They know and they’re our best way to find out who’s behind this.”

“We can help you,” Rose says. “We know what we’re doing.”

“How do we know we can trust you?”

“Everyone here has the highest security clearance,” Rose assures him. “Okay?”

Clive sighs heavily and leans back in his chair. “Whatever.”

“We’re lucky that Torchwood is willing to help us,” Donna says. “They could have told us to go whistle.”

“Or worse.” Ian speaks for the first time, watching the movie people with narrowed eyes.

“Are you threatening me?” Clive demands.

“Do I need to threaten you?”

“Drop it, Clive,” Sam says. “Donna?”

“Yes.” Donna clears her throat. “This movie is the studio’s biggest so far. Biggest budget, largest cast. That works in your favor because we can have you all over the studio, looking for anything suspicious.”

“And why is the script editor suddenly in charge of this?” Clive wants to know.

Sam clenches his fists and counts to ten. “Clive, by rights I ought to boot you out of here right now. You left. That means I no longer trust you. Feel free to earn my trust back. Until that time Donna is helping me.”

“Uh, Sam?” Derek raises his hand.

“You are still my personal assistant, Derek,” Sam says heavily. “All right? Anything else? Can we continue or should I just shut down the place right now?”

“Oh, I think they got the message,” the Doctor says cheerfully. “Nice to know office in-fighting isn’t restricted to Torchwood. Okay. Torchwood people, listen up. We’ll be infiltrating this production in the guise of movie people. I have your assignments made out already. First - Mark from Accounting? Rose, who’s Mark from Accounting?”

Mark from Accounting raises his hand. “That’s me. We spoke at this morning’s meeting. You said you needed me.”

“Yes. Mark from Accounting. Mark. Marvelous Mark.” The Doctor scans his list. “You are going to be in charge of payroll for this movie. That’s all the information on your job that Donna gave me. She’ll help you later.”

Donna waves at Mark. He sinks back down in his seat, looking utterly lost.

“Travis!” The Doctor fixes a look upon Travis. “You’re in charge of security on set. Make sure everyone there belongs there. ”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jackson, you’re with Travis. Make sure it doesn’t go to his head. He’s allowed one weapon.”

The Doctor swiftly plants the rest of his people throughout the studio - wardrobe, food, promotions, security. For the most part, no one has complaints about what they’re doing.

Except one.

_“Wardrobe?”_ Simon repeats after the Doctor. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What? You and Maria from personnel. Riley’s in makeup next door to you. You’ll be working together.”

“In costumes? I’m a _man._ ”

Fiona throws him a smile. “You certainly are.”

This disarms Simon more effectively than anything the Doctor could have said. Blinking, he sits back in his chair. 

“You’ll be fine, Simon,” Riley says briskly. 

“Oh, shut it.”

“Shouldn’t I be in personnel?” Maria asks hesitantly. “Since that’s what I do?”

“You have a beautiful sense of style,” Donna tells her warmly. “I think you’ll be great in costuming. Where did you find that jacket?”

“Oh, I made it.”

“See?”

Maria flushes pink and nods.

“Is anyone acting in the movie?” a handsome young man with dark hair asks.

“Yes. Howards and Doran will be playing extras.”

“Who’s that?” Rose whispers to Donna, nodding at the dark-haired man.

“Paul Caulfield.”

“Is he famous?”

“A bit. Clive’s nephew by marriage. All looks, no brains.”

Rose sighs. “Shame.”

“Really is.”

“Sam and Clive will do what they always do,” the Doctor continues. He’s obviously enjoying himself far too much. “Rose and Donna will be in the offices, keeping an eye on the internal stuff. Jake, you and Ian will be part of the crew. Either of you know how to operate a camera?”

Jake and Ian glance at each other, than at the Doctor.

“Are you kidding?” Jake asks.

“Yes, I’m kidding. About the camera work. You will be on the crew.”

“What about you?” Clive asks.

“Oh, me. I’ll be hovering, of course.”

“Of course?”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on everything.” The Doctor sets down his list and smiles. “Just like I always do.”

 

Sam is in his office, trying to get through several weeks of mail. He doesn’t look up as Donna enters.

“I still can’t decide if this is a great idea or one that will get us all dissected in a secret lab somewhere.”

Donna sits down across from his desk. “I’ll let you know when I decide,” she says lightly.

Sam finally looks up. Donna feels a twinge of guilt for doing this to him. He’s been up for three nights now, plotting with Dr. Smith. Dr. Smith looks the same, just as he always does, but Sam looks tired. Donna fights the urge to smooth back his hair. That would not be professional.

“It has to work, Donna. We’re in big trouble otherwise.”

“Well, if we can get everyone here to cooperate, we may come out okay.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? Getting everyone here to cooperate.” Sam abandons his mail and leans back, studying her. “How long have you worked for me, Donna?”

“Seven months now.”

“You like it?”

“I do,” she says, wondering where he’s headed with this.

“Even now? Even with all of this?”

“All of what?” Donna is cautious now, because there’s so much wrapped up in what she likes about her job and she doesn’t understand the strange look in his eyes.

“Even with aliens and time travel and intergalactic conspiracies?”

“Well, it wasn’t that much different from the movies we work on. Not much of a stretch, yeah?”

“I was born on a different galaxy,” Sam says slowly. “On a different planet. I speak a language that you couldn’t begin to reproduce with your vocal cords. I ate different foods. My family connections are amazingly complicated.”

She nods. “I’ve noticed that last part. I didn’t realize how close you all were until today.”

He grimaces. “Not something we advertise. A lot of things we don’t advertise.”

“So someone really wants to kill you. Any idea why?”

He scowls. “A few people, would, I imagine. I’m not very popular at home right now. If we can make this work things will be a lot smoother for us all.”

“I have all your notes on the script.” Donna places a thick notebook on his desk. “I took it when Derek and the others left. I didn’t think it should be lying around.”

He stares at the cover. “Thanks.”

“I made a few more notes in there myself,” she adds, standing up. “Once I knew that Torchwood would be here. It may make things easier.”

“Donna.”

She turns at the door to look back at him.

“Thank you.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome, Sam.”

He sits very still after she leaves. If he’s wrong he and his people will all be in grave danger. If he succeeds, he will have greater freedom than before, and the chance to live out his life here without fear of reprisals. He would never endanger his people, his family, his home. No one on the council could understand that. They operated solely on fear. But now...if he can find out who’s behind all of this, he can finally quit the Time Agency.

No one ever talks about that - the fact that few agents leave the Time Agency on their own. Alive, at any rate. If he can do that he’ll really be free.

He picks up his phone. “Derek? Come in here, please.”

 

Rose sits in Donna’s office, trying hard to follow the plot of the movie the studio is preparing to make.

“So there’s an alien invasion,” she says.

“Yes,” Donna says, pointing to the script. “Huge special effects there. Sam won’t let any of you lot over there, but it will be big.”

“And the people of Earth fight the aliens,” Rose continues. “Lots of battles, lots of dying. Humans finally win.”

“Of course. Movies don’t do well if the aliens win. People don’t like that.”

“And then a big victory scene at the end.”

“It’ll have lots of balloons and music,” Donna confirms.

“Sounds...great.” Rose lets the script fall to the desk. “So. You’re working with aliens. How does that feel?”

Donna shrugs. “They’re still all annoying and full of themselves. Don’t see that much of a difference.”

“Seriously?”

“They were all pretty private,” Donna says. “So now I know what they were hiding, but they’re still not showing me the secret handshake or anything.”

“How is Sam?” Rose can’t help asking. “He still the same?”

Donna smiles, probably without realizing that she’s smiling. “Sam is good. A bit more friendly now, now that I know, I mean.”

“He’s very grateful that you stayed after everyone else had gone.”

“Yes. Grateful.” Donna sighs and frowns at the wall. 

“He gave you a promotion and a pay rise.”

Donna nods. “And that’s brilliant, really. Finally a successful job.” But she sounds a bit forlorn.

“Everything okay?” Rose touches Donna’s arm.

Donna shrugs. “So I have a crush on my alien boss. Big deal, yeah? Not like an alien and a human would ever get together. Too many differences.”

Rose hums.

“I mean, for one thing, the biology’d be all wrong. And the in-laws! Talk about two different worlds!”

Rose coughs.

“And he’s never shown any interest in me,” Donna finishes up.

Rose knows that she is treading on dangerous ground here. She’s often interfered in something only to regret it later.

“It’s not like he would, is it?” she asks, interfering anyway. “He’s your boss. He’s in charge of everything. He needs to be professional.”

“It’s not personal. It’s not seeing me.”

“What?”

Donna rolls her eyes. “I’m just a worker. I was human, so he never bothered much with me before. I always did my job and that made him happy.”

“Donna, you’ve saved the studio! If there was ever a chance for him to notice you properly, this is it.”

The trouble is, now that the chance for that is here, Donna’s not sure she wants it. It was one thing when she was working for a famous man. It’s another when that famous man is not from Earth.

 

“Are you done hovering?”

It’s almost the end of the day, and Rose has found the Doctor sitting on the floor of Clive’s office, reading through some files.

“I’m done,” he confirms. “Well, almost done. Just about. Close to being done.”

“Not at all, then,” Rose concludes, and walks over to sit on the floor beside him. “What is all this?”

“Production notes.” He shows her one of the files. 

“This is just notes on special effects.”

“Exactly. Fascinating stuff.”

Rose leans back to get a good look at him. “Is this about finding out who’s behind Sam’s problems, or is it about making a movie?”

“Rose. It’s about making a movie, of course!” His grin is infectious.

She bumps her shoulder against his. “‘Course it is. Everyone’s gone home.”

He looks around. “Have they? It’s only half past five.”

“I guess all the hard work starts tomorrow. Sam’s still here. And a few of the others. I’m still not sure who’s really important around here,” she confesses.

“Oh, we can figure that out,” he says easily. “Are you ready to leave?”

“I am. Are you?”

He looks around. “Yeah. I just need to make sure our security passes are finished.”

Rose holds up a security pass. It’s got his picture on it, and _John Smith, special consultant,_ written underneath the studio’s movie camera logo.

“Oh, that’s very nice. Where’s yours?”

Rose shows him her own pass.

“They are pretty nice,” she agrees, admiring her photo. “Too bad we can’t get these at Torchwood.”

“Yeah, shame we have to be all secretive,” the Doctor says, shoving his into a pocket. “Everyone have one of these?”

“All of our people do. And I convinced Sam that his staff should have new ones made as well.”

He smiles at her. “Brilliant. And...”

She smiles back, leaning in so close that their heads touch. “And...Travis made sure every pass has a locator chip inside.”

“Brilliant,” he says again.

“It is,” Rose confirms. “No one will be able to leave the lot without our knowing about it.”

“And Sam’s not aware of what we did?” the Doctor asks. He’s not feeling guilty about deceiving Sam this way - the only way to make sure that everything is working is to make sure that no one knows their security pass is broadcasting their location. 

“No. Just us and Travis. And Travis won’t say anything.” Rose tucks her own pass into her jacket pocket and leans against the Doctor. 

“Well?” he asks.

“Well what?”

“Well, what is it? What’s bothering you?”

“I’m just hoping this will work.” Rose tilts her head up to look at him, her hair falling along his shoulder. “That we’re not wasting all this time and money for nothing.”

He frowns and puts his arm around her. “This is the best chance we have. If someone out there doesn’t want Sam to keep making movies, the movie studio is the most likely place to stop him.”

They sit silently for a few minutes. Except for the lack of a constant humming, they could almost have been sitting in the TARDIS again, spending a quiet evening (relative time) together between adventures.

“It’s exciting, though, isn’t it?” Rose finally says. “We get to see a movie be made.”

“Well, it’s not the most exciting thing we’ve ever done.” The Doctor feels oddly hurt by her words.

“Are you kidding? We love these kinds of films! And I already met a couple of the actors. The girl who was eaten by that giant Martian bug in the movie watched at Mum’s the night we baby-sat Tony, remember her? She said it was nice to meet me!”

“Yes, it’s a movie. But we’ve met Elvis.”

“Oh, and one of the lead actors is related to Sam somehow. He was on _Eastenders_ for a year.”

The Doctor rolls his eyes. “I’ve taken you to the end of the world, Rose.”

“He told me that tv was fun but movies are better for making yourself known,” Rose continues, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. 

“Planet full of flying dinosaurs? Remember? Beat that.”

“ _And_ Clive’s nephew is making a movie with Johnny Depp next year. All about pirates.”

The Doctor has had enough. He can tell by the sound of her voice that she’s having him on, but he’s not going to let it go. He gets to his feet, bringing Rose up to stand with him.

“Let’s get one thing straight right now,” he says sternly. “You are not to fraternize with any of the actors here.”

She smiles slowly up at him, eyebrow raised challengingly. “How are you gonna stop me?”

“Oh, I’ll stop you,” he assures her, sliding his arms around her waist. “I have _ways._ ”

Rose lifts her arms around his neck. “You certainly do,” she agrees breathlessly, just before he kisses her senseless.


	25. You and me, we couldn't stand being normal /That's why we, make a good you and me

The Doctor’s ways of making Rose not fraternize with actors are all very successful. So successful, in fact, that they get carried away there on the floor of the office. Only a thud somewhere beyond the closed door brings them back to reality.

Rose struggles to lean up on one elbow. “What was that?” she whispers.

The Doctor stops what he’s doing and listens. “Nothing.”

“I heard something,” she insists.

“I didn’t.”

“Go!” She gives him a shove that knocks him off-balance.

He gets to his knees and stands up, slowly tucking his shirt back into his trousers. Stepping to the door, he opens it up and looks up and down the hall. The hallway is dark - most of the studio has gone home for the day. Tonight will be the last time anyone gets out at a normal time until the movie is finished.

“No one’s here,” he says over his shoulder.

Rose stands up and smoothes down her shirt. “What are we doing here?” she asks humorously. “We ought to be at home.”

“Oh, absolutely,” he agrees instantly. “Let’s go. Now.”

“Shouldn’t we look for the noise?”

“Whatever it is, it’s gone. And I want to go home. Now.”

His intent is clear - he plans on finishing what they started. Rose is in agreement, so she lets him tug her along to the exit.

 

Jackie calls them at home later that night. 

“Are you still mad at me?” she asks without saying hello.

Rose mentally runs down the list of things her mum’s done lately. Ah, of course. Their last family dinner where she all but demanded that the Doctor make her an honest woman. And then the Doctor never mentioned it again.

Any other time, Rose would have remembered and still been angry with both of them. But time heals all wounds, as they say, and so does romance. 

Still lying in bed, blankets pulled up to her chin, Rose lazily turns her head to look at the Doctor. He’s lying in bed beside her, a satisfied grin on his face. He turns his head to smile at her.

Rose smiles back and smoothes her free hand against his hair.

“No, Mum,” she answers. “I’m not mad.”

“Oh, good. Listen, can you watch Tony for us next week? Your dad’s got something planned for us.”

“Sure. When?”

“Oh, he won’t tell me yet. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, Mum. Talk to you soon.”

“Love you, sweetheart!”

“Love you, too. Bye.” Rose hangs up her mobile and turns to face the Doctor.

“What are you thinking?” he asks her. “You have that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

“The look that says you’re up to something.”

She smiles. “Maybe I am.”

“What?” he demands. He gets his answer when she launches herself at him.

“It’s still early,” she tells him. “Dinner or something else?”

He thinks about it. “Something else, and _then_ dinner.”

“Sounds good,” she agrees, and startles him by stripping the blankets off of them. Her laugh is cut short as he leans up to kiss her.

 

They’re up and at the studio at an appallingly early time the next morning.

“It’s still dark out,” Rose complains. “And it’s cold.”

“They’re on a schedule,” the Doctor explains. “If anything is going to happen, if something is going to be sabotaged or interrupted, the prime time is now.”

“Prime time is several hours from now,” Rose corrects him. She’s wishing that instead of a few hours in bed last night, followed by dinner and a movie, that she had just gone to sleep instead.

“You don’t really mean that,” the Doctor says as they reach the studio doors. Swiping their passes, they let themselves in to the main lobby. It’s still too early for the receptionist to be there.

“What don’t I mean?” Rose asks. “About prime time?”

“No.” He glances at her. “About going to sleep last night instead of other things.”

Her mouth opens in outrage. “Are you reading my mind? How dare you read my mind!” And then, as a thought occurs to her, “You can do that now?”

He shrugs. “Kind of. A bit. Only sometimes, and usually only you.”

Rose frowns. “Well, don’t, thanks.”

“You were thinking rather hard back there,” he points out. “Couldn’t help it.”

Sam had asked them to meet him first thing that morning. They’ve stopped in the hallway outside his office. The Doctor stands there, waiting for Rose to say something.

Rose simply stands and looks at him. Most of the time she manages to be herself, to be in charge of her emotions and function the way she should. A remnant of her time in this world looking for him. A survival mechanism. Even with him here with her, it hasn’t been easy to completely let go of that. To surrender all the way would be leaving herself vulnerable, and she’s not quite ready for that.

And yet, sometimes, when they’re not bantering or fighting or running, she will look at him, and it will wash over her once again. He’s here, with her. The Doctor stayed. He will never be a consolation prize - he is all she’d ever wanted. Right here, standing with her, holding her hand even now. 

He’s not perfect - he’s messy and he has the attention span of a child sometimes, and he can be impossible to deal with.

But he stayed, and he’s holding her hand even now.

“Rose?” he prompts her gently.

She still looks at him, a small smile on her lips. His hair is styled and tousled - it could do with a bit of a trim. He’s wearing dark trousers and a blue shirt. She had thought her Doctor had no fashion quirks - he certainly doesn’t go around in a brown pinstriped suit, or in black leather. But he used to wear blue shirts with that brown suit, and she doesn’t think it’s all a coincidence that most of his shirts are blue. Since he changes his clothes at least once a day she doesn’t consider it worrisome.

And he looks rather nice in blue.

“Rose?” he asks once more.

She smiles at him. “Hello. You ready?”

He shakes his head. “Come on, you daft woman.”

She laughs. “You like it.”

“I love it,” he corrects her, and knocks on Sam’s door.

“There you are,” Sam greets them, opening the door. “Come on. I have a meeting.”

“You need us for that?” the Doctor asks.

“I need to make sure my production team knows what you want of them.”

The Doctor looks quickly around the room. “You were all here yesterday.”

“They were,” Sam confirms. “They preferred to watch your style before agreeing to work with you.”

Rose arches her eyebrows and looks at the Doctor. He glances at her and then looks back to Sam.

“I thought we’d already agreed? If you don’t need Torchwood’s help, we’re glad to leave you to it.” He takes Rose’s hand and steps to the door. “Good luck with the people who want to kill you.”

“No, no, no,” Sam says impatiently. “We’re doing all the main work here. Have a seat.”

They sit, albeit cautiously.

“What do you know about movie making?” Clive asks them.

The Doctor thinks for a moment. “I saw the filming of _Gone With The Wind_. Clark Gable was a fantastic Rhett Butler.”

Rose nods in agreement. “And we watch movies. At home, after work.”

Various disapproving frowns are directed her way.

“At home?” one of the men asks. “Not at the cinema?”

“We make our money in the cinemas,” Clive explains. “No problem, of course. You can’t watch everything there.” His expression says that they should, however.

At the end of the table, a blonde woman leans close to a man with dark brown hair. “What’s _Gone With the Wind_?” she whispers. He shrugs back.

“Don’t know, but it’s a good title.”

Hearing this, Rose hopes they haven’t just mucked up the movie history of this world. It would be a shame if Margaret Mitchell tried to publish her book only to find out that it was a movie first.

“All right,” Sam says. “Here’s a crash course in the business. Listen up. This is my crew here. I’m the producer. I’m overseeing everything. I’m also directing this movie.”

Rose and the Doctor nod agreeably.

“This is Geoffrey. He’s the assistant director.” Sam motions to a man across the table. He’s in his forties, with dark hair and very pale eyes. Like everyone else there, he’s dressed casually in a shirt and jeans.

“Hello,” Rose says with a small wave,

“Are you from Nocklyn as well?” the Doctor asks. “So far it’s been hard for me to tell you apart from the humans.”

Rose winces. She was really hoping they could avoid the whole, the-Doctor-is-an-alien talk for a while.

Sam and Geoffrey both look at him curiously. 

“Are you able to detect humans and aliens?” Sam asks.

“Well,” the Doctor begins, but breaks off as Rose kicks him in the skin. “Ouch!”

“Special equipment,” Rose puts in. “You know. So what do you do?” she asks Geoffrey.

He glances at Sam, who nods. Sighing heavily, as if he wishes he were somewhere else, he says, “I’m in charge of the shooting schedule. I decide what scenes we shoot.”

“That’s fascinating,” Rose says politely.

“These people are all from my home,” Sam says. “If you need to know who’s related to who we can tell you, but it would take some time. We’re all interconnected on several different family connections.”

“That’s fine,” the Doctor says. “I just like to know who’s here. You all have your security passes?” he adds casually.

A nod from Sam has security passes taken out and waved in the air.

“Lovely,” the Doctor says. “Don’t take them off.”

“Danielle is the location manager,” Sam continues. “We’re shooting most of the movie here at the studio, but some scenes are set on location.”

“I find the locations,” Danielle says. She looks young for her age, but Rose has suspected for a while that these aliens are older than they look.

“Nice to meet you, Danielle.” The Doctor turns to the man next to her. “And you?” 

“I’m Greg. I’m the production designer.”

“Really? What’s that? Are you taking notes, Rose?”

Rose looks at the Doctor, surprised, and then looks around for something to write with. Clive slides a notebook and a pen across the table. Rose thanks him with a smile, turns to a blank page, and carefully writes out _Greg, production manager_ in her nicest handwriting.

“I create the props for the set. Along with Bill.”

The Doctor turns and zeroes in on Bill. “Bill?”

“I’m Bill,” the man concurs. “I’m the art director. My people build the sets and the props.”

“And we’ve met all of them as well?”

“Yeah, you did that yesterday.”

“Excellent. Rose, make a note of that, too.”

Rose writes down _met art dept yesterday._

“Clive is the production manager. He manages the budget and the schedule.”

Clive makes a face. Sam sees this and grimaces. “Clive hates this job, but it involves meeting with the studio executives, and he’s better at that than I am.”

“He’s better at ingratiating himself with the higher-ups,” someone mutters.

“I heard that, Anthony!” Clive snaps. 

Sam lays a hand on Clive’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without Clive,” he tells Rose and the Doctor.

“But I thought you were in charge?” Rose asks, pen hovering in the air.

“This is my studio. But we’re an offshoot of another. My boss’s name is Mason Tate. If my films don’t make money, he doesn’t continue to back us with his money.” Sam pauses to let this fact sink in around the table. A few failures and they’ll all be heading back to their own planet.

“This is Emily, my director of photography.” It’s the blonde woman who asked about _Gone with the Wind._

“Hi,” she says cheerfully to Rose and the Doctor. “I’m in charge of the cameras and lighting. I’m actually a cinematographer, but Sam is a bit old-school, aren’t you?”

“Call if what you like. You’ve met Cindy, I think, the costume designer.”

“I designed the costumes,” Cindy says. “Humans and aliens. I work with Doris and Cleo.”

Rose nods. “We met the yesterday.”

Cindy nods. “Yes, they were there. We have one of your men on board with us, I think.”

“Simon,” the Doctor supplies. “He, ah, coming along?”

“Not really,” Cindy says bluntly. “But we’ll break him in the end.”

“Yes, well,” Sam interrupts. “Hair and makeup aren’t here right now, but you won’t have missed much. Curtis is my sound mixer. He’s in charge of the audio. Makes sure when we shoot that we can hear the dialogue as the actors say it. 

“Anthony is in charge of special effects. You won’t be seeing much of them. They stay in their studio and work.”

Sam stands up. “I have a movie to shoot. Any questions?”

 

Multiple things are happening simultaneously at the studio. People are being fitted out with various costumes from humans to exotic aliens.

A small meeting is being held in Clive’s office. Clive and three women stare at a board with pictures of hairstyles tacked to it.

Travis is checking IDs and security badges on the lot behind the studio.

On the backlot, a stuntman is falling from a three-story building. He lands on a great inflatable mattress, bounces up and to the ground, and heads up to the roof to fall again.

Rose and the Doctor receive various welcomes as they walk by. Obviously everyone there knows who they are.

“I’d hate to be that guy,” the Doctor observes, watching the stuntman fall for the third time.

“He seems to enjoy it,” Rose comments.

“Cheating death is not an enjoyable past time,” he says.

“It is if you’re Jack,” Rose says without thinking.

He glances at her. “Is it?”

She sighs. “It’s good for getting Daleks off your back.”

He puts an arm around her and hugs her gently. “He told you no hard feelings about that.”

“Maybe he did,” she says lightly. “Doesn’t mean I have to feel glad that I made him immortal.”

“You couldn’t help it. And he’s had lots of time to come to terms with it. Lots and lots of time.”

“Why did you want me to take notes?” Rose asks.

“They were all watching you as you wrote. Sometimes you can detect something if a person isn’t paying attention to you.”

“Did you detect something?”

He sighs. “No. But it was worth a try, eh?”

 

Anna drops by at lunchtime. She’s brought lunch for Ian, and she admits to a desire to see the inner workings of a movie studio.

“I thought you were above all of this,” Travis says as he prints out her security pass.

“Above all what?” Anna examines her picture critically. “Were your eyes open when you took this? It looks like I have antenna.”

“It’s those things on top of your head,” Travis says. “Sign it and go. We’re very busy here.”

The security office is deserted, but the cameras are bustling with people. Anna rolls her eyes. “I can see that. And they’re not ‘things’ on my head. They’re called knitting needles.”

“Whatever,” he says dismissively.

“If I weren’t in a hurry,” she says threateningly, “I would show you what a needle is for.”

“I’m shaking in fear,” he assures her. “Excuse me.” He leans over and picks up a phone that’s not ringing.

“Idiot,” Anna says crisply, and heads outside. She’s wearing a denim skirt that hits above her knees. Her blouse is crisp, white and rather expensive. She still can’t help feeling underdressed. All around are actors dressed in very nice clothing. She wonders if they’re costumes, or if even actors in weird science-fiction movies are able to afford nicer clothing than she is.

“Oh, it’s that they can afford nicer clothing than you,” the Doctor says, popping up out of nowhere. It’s a testament to the fact that Anna has gotten used to him that she doesn’t jump. She shades her eyes with a hand and stares at him.

“Excuse me?”

“The actors,” he explains. “They make more money than you.”

It’s not the first time that he has surprised her by speaking something that she was thinking about, but this time they’re not at work.

“How did you do that?” she demands.

The Doctor realizes what he’s done. “Oh, you know,” he says vaguely. “You were looking at that pretty pink dress and I know that’s what Rose thinks when she sees something she’d like.”

Anna continues to look at him suspiciously. “Rose has all the money in the world,” she says slowly.

“So she does, so she does. What are you doing away from Torchwood?”

Anna gives up and lets him change the subject. Someday she’ll be able to strap him to a table and examine that head of his.

“Are you having fun?” she asks.

He grins. “Yeah, I am. Don’t tell Pete.”

“Where’s Ian?”

“Oh, he’s around somewhere.”

“Thanks, you’ve been very helpful.”

Anna finds Ian sitting in the commissary. Rose and Simon are at the same table.

“Hi!” he says, jumping up and giving her a kiss.

“I brought lunch.” Anna holds up the paper bag.

“Excellent. The food’s not bad,” he admits, clearing a place for her, “but what’d you bring?”

“Just Indian takeaway.”

Simon and Rose perk up at that, but they’ve already eaten cheeseburgers and chips.

“What’s going on at home?” Rose asks, finishing up her chips and moving to Simon’s plate.

“Nothing much, really. There was some concern that we might be understaffed with so many agents here, but luckily the aliens are holding back for now.”

“Good to know,” Simon grunts and stands. “See you later.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Anna asks.

Ian smirks. “He’s in costume. Helping dress a lot of extras and weird alien types for a dress rehearsal.”

“That’s an odd place for him.”

“Not really,” Rose disagrees. “He sees all of the actors and can size them up. Plus Sam thought we should have someone like Simon here.”

“Like Simon? You mean male and straight?”

“Handy with a weapon,” Ian explains. “Just in case.”

“Show me around?” Anna asks after lunch. “The least you can do.”

Ian holds her hand as they walk around the studio.

“This is a big place,” Anna observes.

Ian looks at her, pretty as a picture in her skirt and blouse. Her dark hair is back in braid that’s she’s knotted at the back of her neck. Her knitting needles are stuck inside the braid.

Something comes over Ian, something that he will later blame on an undue alien influence. She turns her head to smile at him, and he’s no longer in control of his mouth.

“Anna. Let’s get married.”

She blinks. “What?”

“We’ve been dating long enough. Let’s make your parents and my parents happy. Will you marry me?”

She shakes her head, not to say no but to clear it. “Are you proposing to me?”

“Maybe.”

“In a hallway?”

“Wherever. Marry me, Anna.”

She nods. “Yes. Thank you.”

He laughs and hugs her.

Later Anna will blame undue alien influence, as well, but she’ll be smiling as she says it.

 

Rose is sitting in Donna’s office when her mobile rings. 

“It’s Sally!” Sally’s voice says. “I have a lovely place to show you. Tonight night, round six?”

Rose sighs. That’s the last thing she wants to do, but she may as well get it over with.

“That sounds fine, Sally.”

“I’m sending the address to your phone right now.”

“It’s the _yellow_ copy!” Donna says in exasperation.

“I have to go, Sally,” Rose says hastily. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She switches off her mobile and looks at Donna.

“Yellow copy of what?”

“We need a rewrite,” Donna says, flipping through several binders. “One of the girls who plays a victim of one of the spaceship attacks - don’t asks, ‘cos I don’t understand it, either - just turned up pregnant. She doesn’t want to keep working, so we need to rework the scene for someone else.”

Every rewrite of a screenplay, Donna had explained to Rose earlier, is done in a different color, leading to the rainbow of colors spread out on the desk in front of her.

“Yellow, yellow, yellow. Ah!” Donna finds it and waves it triumphantly. “Got it.”

“Who is it?” Rose asks. “That’s having a baby?”

“One of the extras we like to use. She’s human, so that’s one less worry for Sam, I guess.”

“That’s nice for her, having a baby,” Rose says. Her voice might be wistful, or it might just be her imagination.

“Yeah,” Donna says in the same tone of voice. “A baby.”

They both look up as the door to Donna’s office opens. 

“Dress rehearsals are going well,” the Doctor reports, sitting down beside Rose’s desk and stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Catering is having a hard time keeping those little jelly donuts on the table. No problems with security, and Riley has found a new signature lip color.”

“Has she? What shade?”

“Something about mulled wine. Which can’t be right, that just doesn’t sound possible.”

“Oh, it is,” Donna assures him. “The makeup department has their own line of makeup. All named for foods.” She pauses a moment and looks up into space. “You put on a lipstick and then you’re hungry for a snack. Must be an alien thing. But they’re nice.”

Rose peers at Donna. “Is that what are you wearing? One of those colors?”

“Yeah - it’s Peach Tea.”

“It’s lovely. Wrong for my complexion, though.”

“No, you’d something like Melon Ball, or maybe Strawberry Cream Pie.”

“Mm, that sounds nice.”

“What’d you find out?” the Doctor says. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Here.”

Rose tosses him a file folder. “Read this for me. Then we can run that program you wrote and see if there’s any correlations between Sam’s missions.”

They’ve been looking through Sam’s old mission reports for the Time Agency. He’s not supposed to have them, but he does anyway.

She holds her fingers over the computer keyboard. The Doctor starts to read and she tries to keep up with the data as she types it in. The Doctor reads much faster than she can type. Finally he hands her the folder.

“Move over.”

“What? Why?” Rose moves, and he takes her seat. Reading the file, he starts to type.

Donna sees what he’s doing and slowly walks over. 

“How fast are you typing?” she demands.

He doesn’t look up. “100 words a minute.”

“But that’s what I can type!” she exclaims.

“Amazing,” Rose murmurs.

“There.” He finishes up with a flourish and starts the program. They wait to see the results, and all three visibly deflate.

“Nothing,” the Doctor says with disappointment “That was a waste of five hours’ programming.”

“Rose, you get out there and look around,” Donna urges. “There’s no reason to have you hanging around inside all day.”

“I’m fine,” Rose says. “I’ll do whatever needs doing.”

“Well, we don’t need to run this program, anymore, that’s obvious.”

“You can help me out, then,” the Doctor says. Ian and Anna walk in before he can tell Rose what he needs. “Hello again.”

“Hi!” Anna is beaming.

“What’s up?” Donna asks. “You look pretty happy. Are you a movie buff?”

“What? No!” Anna looks horrified at the suggestion that she might enjoy sci-fi movies. “Goodness, no. Ian just proposed!” she says to Rose.

“What?”

“We’re getting married,” Ian confirms. “Just asked her, just now in the hallway.”

Donna winces. “How romantic,” she murmurs. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations,” Rose adds mechanically.

“Lovely news,” the Doctor agrees, smiling at Anna.

He and Rose do not look at one another. A rather awkward silence ensues.

“Rose, I have a little bit before I need to get back,” Anna says. “You were having trouble with your row of knitting last time - do you want me to help you?”

Ordinarily Rose would not accept such an offer ever. But she jumps at the chance to leave the suddenly stifling room.

“Yes! Absolutely! My bag’s in the car. Let’s go get it.”

“Oh, we don’t have to-” Rose grabs Anna’s arm and pushes her out of the office.

“See you later!” Anna calls over her shoulder.

Ian and Donna stare after them, puzzled.

“What’s that all about?” Ian asks. “I know Anna’s been wanting to help Rose, but honestly, I thought Rose wasn’t too keen on the whole thing.”

The Doctor stares at the door, apparently unconcerned. “Rose is learning to knit,” is all he’ll say.

 

Rose makes it twenty minutes before she thinks she’ll go mad if she has to keep knitting. Luckily, that’s about the time that Anna looks at her watch and gasps. 

“I have to get back.” She shoves Rose’s yarn back into the bag. “Oh. Do you want to keep-”

“No,” Rose says hastily. “No, no, that’s okay.” She finishes rolling up her row of incredibly crooked pink yarn. Without thinking she sticks the knitting needles into her hair.

As Anna starts to leave, Rose stops her.

“I’m really happy for you,” she says sincerely.

Anna smiles. “Thanks. I’m going to get back to work and call my mum.”

Rose sighs.


	26. Something told me we'd be happy forever /Don't see how this could change any of that

The day has been a rousing success by the Doctor’s standards. Most everyone at the studio had a complaint of some kind, and most everyone there thought the plan was doomed to failure.

“Mind you, they may be right,” he confides to Rose as they get in the car to go meet Sally. “But at least we’ll have tried.”

Rose pauses before turning the key in the ignition. “You don’t really mean that.”

“No?”

“No. This is going to work.”

He nods. “It just might.”

“Any idea who might be behind this?” she asks as they drive out of the studio’s car park and hit the motorway.

He sighs. It’s very hard for him to admit that he’s wrong, or not as clever as he thinks. “Not yet. But it’s only the first day.”

Rose nods. “Are you sure you want to go out tonight? It’s been a long day.”

“This movie business might take a while. We have the time now, let’s go.”

“Fine. There goes the evening.”

“It won’t take long,” he disagrees.

“No,” Rose agrees. “Not the way you look at houses.”

“What’s that mean?” he asks, looking over at her.

She’s almost sorry she’s spoken, but she keeps going, almost against her will. “You haven’t liked any of the houses we’ve seen, have you? You’ve just been determined to not like any of them.”

“Why would I do that?” he asks.

“Because! Because.”

“Because _why_?”

She looks at him. “I don’t know. Why would you act like that?”

He is completely baffled by this. “It was my idea!”

“For the TARDIS!” she throws at him. “We’re looking for a house for the TARDIS to grow in!”

“No,” he says evenly. “For a safe place for it, yes, but a home for you and me.”

“So you say.”

“What?”

Rose ignores this, and hit the gas pedal hard. She’s braced herself for it, but the Doctor is jolted back in his seat.

“Rose, what’s come over you?” He reaches across to touch her arm and she jerks it away.

The Doctor stills, his hand frozen in the air between them. Slowly he lowers it back to his lap.

“Rose?” he asks, much more softly and gently.

“Stop it,” Rose says through clenched teeth. She doesn’t want him to be kind and gentle.

“What’s happened?” Confusion colors his voice. He’s much better at dealing with Rose than with other people, but there are moments when she can still confuse and confound him.

“We’ve been looking and looking at houses, and nothing is right. I think it’s a sign that we should stop.”

“Stop looking at houses?” he asks incredulously. “But that’s what we’re supposed to be doing. The Home and Garden Channel recommends viewing twenty-five houses before making a decision.”

“Oh, sod the Home and Garden Channel and your late-night viewing!” Rose snaps. “We’re not going to find one. This was a huge mistake. We ought to just stay in the flat and be done with it.”

His telepathic skills are intermittent and somewhat unreliable. He doesn’t need them for this.

“We should just stay in the flat,” he repeats.

“Yes.” Rose sees the exit for the house they’re supposed to look at and takes it, crossing over three lanes of traffic without looking.

“Or maybe you should stay in the flat and I should leave,” he continues. “Is that what you’ve got planned? Or is it that you leave me with that flat and run home to your parents?”

Rose doesn’t answer, but her breathing becomes more rapid.

“Rose? Is that what you want? Or is that what you’re afraid I’m going to do?”

She doesn’t answer as she turns onto the correct street and parks behind Sally’s car.

Her silence is inflaming him like no angry response ever could. “I knew you still had abandonment issues, what with your father and Mickey and with _him_ , but this is ridiculous, Rose.”

She gets out of the car and slams the door. “Maybe you should think about what _you_ want,” she tells him.

He gets out of the car and slams his door shut. “I’m starting to think that what I wanted isn’t really what I want,” he tells her, and has to stop talking as the doors to Sally’s silver Lexus open and two women climb out.

“Hello, there!” Sally shakes both of their hands. She’s in a red suit today, with shoes to match and perfectly applied red lipstick. The woman with her is younger, in her thirties, perhaps, and dressed in a yellow suit that compliments her soft brown hair.

“How are you, Sally?” the Doctor manage to ask, forcing a smile that he hopes doesn’t look as fake as it feels.

“Oh, very well, Dr. Smith. This is Julie, my assistant.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rose says. 

“So nice to meet you both,” Julie says.

“Julie’s new,” Sally explains. “I’ve been so busy I needed help.”

Rose nods. “Of course. Is this is?” she asks, gesturing to the house.

“Yes. Come on!”

Rose and the Doctor walk side by side behind the two agents. Anyone watching would not look twice or think anything was wrong. Even any lurking photographers, not as common anymore, wouldn’t be able to put a negative spin on it. But Rose doesn’t reach for his hand. His hands are in his pockets. They don’t look at each other.

They walk inside and Rose knows it’s not the right house. The walls are dark and the rooms are massive. There is no way she could call this place home. The kitchen looks like something out of a large hotel, not a home.

A man walks into the living room and comes to a halt. He’s wearing a cardigan sweater and is about forty years old, overweight and with thinning hair. “Oh, hello, Sally.” He frowns at Rose and the Doctor. “What are you doing here? Did we have an appointment?”

“I’m showing the house, Howard.” Sally gestures to the man. “This is Howard Long, the owner. Rose and John were just looking around.”

Howard Long frowns. “Yes, about that, Sally. You haven’t been returning my calls. Can we have a word?”

The Doctor looks around, determined to be positive. It’s a terrible place, of course, but if Rose wants him to look, he will.

He maintains this position for all of four minutes, when he starts to cough.

“Goodness,” he manages between coughs, “is there a cat here? I’m terribly allergic to cats. Excuse me, won’t you?” And he heads for the front door.

Rose narrows her eyes and follows. “I’ll be right back,” she says to Sally.

“What the hell are you up to?” Rose demands when she steps outside.

He’s sitting on the front steps, arms resting on his knees. He looks up at Rose, standing above him, and shrugs.

“Getting some air.”

“You’re not allergic to anything, let alone cats.”

“Well, I don’t like cats. Close enough.” He stares straight ahead into the street.

Rose stands there for another minute before sitting down beside him.

“What’s come over you, Rose?” he asks quietly. “I feel like every new step in our life is some kind of test. That if I don’t do what I’m supposed to you’ll get angry with me.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Don’t you? Then why the outburst in the car earlier?” He nods to their car, parked on the side of the street. “You know the last thing I need is an entire house for the TARDIS. As if I would ever buy a bloody house to grow a TARDIS!”

Rose looks down at her lap. “You were using it as an excuse.”

“I used the TARDIS as an excuse. So I could convince you that a house would be nice. I know that you know how I thought. How I _used_ to think,” he clarifies. “I’ve changed, Rose. I may not have been happy to be human, but I am. If this is all the time I have I’m going to make the most of it.”

“How can we make the most of the time we have by buying a house?” she whispers. “Going to work every day and having beans on toast at night? Hunting aliens and trying not to get killed. Is this the life you meant for me to have?”

“It’s the one we do have. Do you want something else?” he asks carefully. “Something more?”

She doesn’t, and that’s the great irony. The Rose Tyler who left behind her family and friends to see the universe wants only to stay home and be safe.

“I want what we have,” she says finally. “I want what we’re gonna have. Maybe it’s just that we just don’t know yet what that’s supposed to be.”

He manages to follow this twisted sentence to its conclusion. “There’s only one way to be sure of that,” he says.

Rose wipes her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t like this house.”

“Oh, I hate it,” he agrees. “Shall we leave?”

She smiles. “Yeah. I’ll go tell Sally.”

Before she can stand up he reaches over and draws her against his chest.

“Rose.”

“No, don’t. I’m sorry. I’ve been acting so stupid today.”

He brushes her hair back from her eyes. “Why?” he asks her tenderly. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, love. Really.”

He doesn’t quite believe her, but he doesn’t want to try and read her thoughts without her permission. Giving in for the moment, he gently kisses her cheek. “Come on.”

They enter the house through the front door, looking for Sally or Julie. A sound draws their attention to the back of the house. Rose leads the way to a swinging door. Placing a hand on it, she pushes it forward. She takes a step in, and then quickly steps back, bumping into the Doctor.

“Ow!”

“Shh!” She places a hand over his mouth, looking frantically over her shoulder. “Oh, no. Oh, no.”

“What? What’s wrong?” He looks in the room, above her head. “Oh no. No, no, no.”

Julie, the new assistant, is holding onto Howard Long’s arms. He is struggling, without success, to free himself. Julie looks young and frail, but she’s clearly stronger than she looks.

Coming near Howard Long is Sally, but it’s a Sally enveloped in an unearthly glow. As she closes in on Howard, the glow, a sickly yellowish-green in color, touches Howard. He begins to slowly disappear, seeming to evaporate into thin air. A long stream of pale matter materializes where Howard once was, and it’s taken in by the glow and taken in by Sally.

The Doctor takes hold of Rose’s hand and runs to the door. They don’t stop until they’re in the car. He takes the keys from Rose’s pocket, starts the car, and drives away, all faster than should be possible.

Rose is fighting back dizziness. “She...she ate him,” she says, trying to breathe. “She just _ate_ him.”

The Doctor is driving at a breakneck speed. “Do you think he didn’t want to the sell his house after all?” he asks, appalled. “What if she does that to all her customers who won’t cooperate?”

Rose groans at the thought.

“Was she gonna eat us if we didn’t buy a house from her?” he continues.

“What is she? What was she doing?”

He finally comes to his senses, Rose’s question jolting him out of his shock. The Doctor stops the car at the entrance to the motorway. “I don’t know,” he says, staring at Rose. “But we have to find out. We have to stop her.” Ignoring the angry honks of the other cars surrounding them, he reverses the car and backs out of the motorway, heading back to where they came from.

Two streets over, he throws open the boot of the car and starts rifling through a toolbox. It’s materials he’s carried around to Torchwood and back home, or to the university for study. Rose has never paid too much attention to it all, except for cursing when it took up space she needed for the shopping.

Ten minutes later, the Doctor nods. “All right. I’ll be right back.”

She shakes her head. “Where are you going? What is that?”

He holds up the small black device he’s built out of the spare parts in the car. “This will let us follow them. Sally and Julie are clearly in it together. We need to follow them back home and find out what’s going on.”

“But where are you going?”

“The house is right through that gate. I’m going to attach it to their car and be right back.”

Rose can’t find anything to say. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, you stay here and wait. As soon as I get back we have to leave in case they’re looking for us.”

“What about Howard?” she whispers.

“I think it’s too late for Howard.”

“But what if they’ve already left?”

He looks grim. “Then we’ll have to keep looking at houses.”

Sally’s car is still parked in front of the house. The Doctor drops to the ground, crawls forward, and attaches his handy-dandy tracking device to the underside of the car. He runs back to Rose and gets in their car.

“All right, go!” he says. “They’re still there. They have to leave sometime.”

Rose stops the car a few streets over. She parks in front of a chip shop and the Doctor runs inside to get them some dinner.

“Think of it as an alien stakeout,” he says, sipping his drink through a bright purple straw.

Rose shakes her head. “At Torchwood we’d have a van and all kinds of cool equipment.”

“Possibly,” he concedes. “But this is more fun, isn’t it?”

She smiles at him. “Yeah, it is.”

“We could still call this in,” he says, throwing it out there because he feels he must.

Rose shakes her head. “No way. Just you and me here. Like old times.”

“Shiver and shake,” he agrees.

She frowns slightly at the old memory. “Not this time.”

 

Sally’s car starts to move, and they follow it, keeping a few car lengths behind at all times.

“Proper procedure,” the Doctor explains. “See it all the time on tv.”

“Of course,” Rose agrees. “Hang on.” She points to the building where Sally has parked her car. “We know this place.”

The Doctor watches Sally and Julie walk inside. “We’ve been here. Sally showed us this house.”

“We hated it. It was dark and creepy and awful.”

“And we left quickly because something spooked Sally,” the Doctor finishes. “Come on.”

They ease in through the front door, listening hard for any noises.

The Doctor touches Rose's shoulder and points to the right. He touches his chest and points to the left. Rose nods and moves off, looking for Sally.

She’s made it through the dining room and the kitchen when the floor creaks behind her. Rose turns, acutely, painfully aware that coming here without backup had also meant coming here without weapons. She can’t believe they were so careless - in thinking they were invincible they’ve left themselves open.

Julie is standing there. “Well. Ms. Tyler. Hello.”

“What are you doing here?” Rose asks.

Julie smiles. “Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

 

Rose is marched to the cellar, a dark, damp place. Julie unlocks a door and waves Rose inside what appears to be a small storage room. “Sally will be here soon, don’t worry.” She smiles and closes the door. Rose hears the turn of a key on the other side.

Rose stares helplessly at the door before turning around. There is a small window near the ceiling. She tries madly to break it but the glass doesn’t budge. All she gets for her trouble is a sore hand.

Well, at least the Doctor hasn’t been caught, Rose consoles herself. He’ll get her out.

It’s at that moment, of course, that the door opens and he’s pushed inside. His hands are tied together.

Rose’s eyes widen. “What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to rescue me!”

He holds up his bound hands. “Sorry. I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

The door shuts behind him.

“I don’t believe this!” she seethes. “I bloody well don’t believe this.”

“She found me! She had a gun. Time was I’d get shot, regenerate, and pop up again, right as rain. Well, barring any major regeneration sickness. Well, barring regeneration sickness, period.” He levels a look at her. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate me dying here today.”

“How are we supposed to get out?” Rose demands. She’s aware that she’s being a bit unreasonable, but really, it’s been a long day.

“Untie me, for starters?”

Rose begrudgingly unties his hands. Rubbing his wrists, he looks around. “Shame I don’t have my coat.” His jacket, with its Time Lord pockets, is at home.

“It’s an old house,” says Rose. “The locks can’t be very good.” She goes to the door.

“They’ll have made sure the door is secure,” the Doctor corrects her. “Maybe not...oh, yes! The window.” He starts trying the window, with no luck. Rose doesn’t bother to correct him on that score.

She stands by the door, her ear pressed up against it. She doesn’t hear anything and jiggles the knob experimentally. Behind her, the Doctor is still trying to get the window open.

Rose backs up a bit, squares her shoulder, and braces herself. With a good, solid kick, she breaks open the door.

The Doctor spins around. “What?”

Rose smiles at him calmly.

“What-how-”

She raises an eyebrow. “Years of Torchwood training, and you didn’t think I could handle a small inconvenience like being imprisoned? Seriously, love.”

“I am impressed,” he states. “Very, very impressed.”

“Thanks.”

“Also,” he continues, walking deliberately to her, “also very, very turned on.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “What?”

“Almost as much as when I see you with a gun,” he admits. “It seems wrong, but I just can’t...help myself.” He kisses her, long and deeply and slowly, and Rose shakes her head to clear it when she pulls away.

“Donna was right. You’re bonkers. Come on!” She grabs his hand and his heart starts to race, and they’re running down a dark hallway, laughing like lunatics.

Not the first time. Won’t be the last.

 

They find Sally in the kitchen. She’s standing there in her suit, smiling and for all appearances like any other estate agent showing a home for sale. 

The only difference is that Julie is there, too, tied to a wooden chair with several lengths of rope. She looks terrified.

Sally turns her head as she hears Rose and the Doctor approach. Casually, almost lazily, she tosses a small blue sphere their way. Rose and the Doctor stop where they stand, their feet and legs held in place by a glowing blue column. Rose tries to move and finds that her legs will not cooperate.

“Get back, there’s a love.” Sally smiles at them. “I won’t be but a moment here.”

Rose shakes her head. The Doctor folds his arms across his chest and looks incredibly angry.

“Sally, you need to stop now, okay?” Rose says, trying to be as reasonable as possible.

“Stop her!” Julie protests.

“You’re not the real Sally,” the Doctor says. “Something happened here the last time we came to see this house. Sally heard a noise and started acting strangely.”

Sally smiles mockingly. “Did I? Was I afraid? Or did I just look afraid?”

“What were you doing?” the Doctor asks. “Who are you?”

Sally, or whoever is now Sally, has never met the Oncoming Storm. Rose could almost pity her.

“You were supposed to be my latest meal that night,” Sally says lightly. “Not Rose, of course - she’s too visible a person. But you.” She tilts her head, looking at the Doctor appraisingly. “A new food source, handy to have nearby. I brought you here that night to see what kind of man you are, Dr. Smith. I was planning to have you at our next showing. Hoping for a night when Rose here had to work and couldn’t come along. Things never worked out, did they? You and Ms. Tyler just refused to agree and go your separate ways for long enough. Pity. But I made do.” She smiles broadly at them. “I’m sure you understand.”

“You’re insane!” Rose says.

“You’re not human,” the Doctor states.

“No to the first, yes to the second. Now.” Sally frowns. “Julie’s loss is a bit of an inconvenience. But she’s starting to be a right pain, aren’t you, my dear?”

She spins on her heel and starts to glow.

“Don’t touch her!” a terrified Julie calls out. “Howard touched her and he _died_!”

“You’ll die,” Rose protest, but Sally is already extending tendrils of her light toward Julie. Julie shuts her eyes and turns her head away.

“Stop!” Rose screams, looking frantically around for something to release them.

The Doctor is trying to break the force field surrounding them, but while it lets them move their upper bodies, they cannot free themselves of it.

“Stop it!” The Doctor joins Rose in yelling, but it does Julie no good. She disappears as they watch in horror.

“No,” Rose moans.

Still glowing, now appearing more round then before, Sally turns to smile at them. She’s stretched out her red suit, and just below the bones of her face appears something else, something more sinister and less human.

“What is she?” Rose whispers.

“New universe,” the Doctor says tersely. “No idea. Rose, get ready. She’ll come for me first, and then you run.”

“No!”

Sally moves closer, glowing more strongly and starting to turn to the Doctor.

“You won’t find me as easy to dispose of,” he warns her.

She laughs. “Please.”

_“Don’t give it up. It is a skill you will need.”_

Rose hears Janet’s words in her head and reacts without thinking. She pulls a knitting needle from her hair and flings it at Sally like a dagger. It breaks the glow and lodges within Sally’s body. Sally stops and looks down in surprise.

“What have you done?”

Rose yanks the other needle out of her hair and throws it. It takes less than twenty seconds for the creature before them to dissolve in a mist of sickly green smoke. At the same moment it disappears, the force field surrounding them groans to a stop.

Rose falls to her knees. Her hair, pulled free of its pins when she pulled the needles out, hangs all around her face.

The Doctor falls to his knees beside her and gathers her up in his arms.

She raises her head to his, tears tracking down her face.

“I knew she was too cheerful to be true.”

He hugs her tightly.


	27. I never saw it happening / I'd given up and given in

   
“She _ate_ him,” the Doctor is saying. “Absorbed him up.”

“Like an Absorbaloff?” Rose has finally stopped shaking, though it will be a good long time before she can think about either houses or knitting needles without breaking into a cold sweat.

“I don’t think so. Something else. This universe is a bit different from our own. There could be all kinds of weird creatures I’ve never encountered out there.”

“That’s a cheery thought. I feel safer already.”

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, “why do we always get stuck with the insane aliens?”

Rose pushes to her feet as she hears cars approaching the house. They made it as far as the front porch before she collapsed in a heap. The Doctor tried to keep her warm and calm while he called Torchwood from her mobile phone. Now a parade of dark SUVs with dark tinted windows pulls up the drive.

“Uh oh,” Rose says. Her dad is the first one out of the first car.

Pete bounds up the steps and takes Rose by the shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Dad.”

Pete looks to the Doctor, who nods. “Bit of a shock is all. I don’t know if you’ll find anything,” he adds, watching the two field teams assembled starting to bring their equipment into the house. “All the evidence got sucked up.”

“We’ll see what we can find. I have another team at the other house you told me about. There may be traces of something there.”

“We tried to stop her,” Rose says. “I begged her to stop.”

“Wasn’t your fault, Rose. You all right to go home?”

“Unless you need us here.”

Pete shakes his head. “You go on. I’ll let your mum know you’re all right.”

“Tell her we’ll find a house on our own,” the Doctor says over his shoulder, leading Rose down the steps to their car.

Pete half-smiles and shakes his head. He watches his daughter and the Doctor drive away, and turns to go inside the house.

 

 

“All right,” the Doctor says briskly. “We’re going in today. Shooting has already started, but I think we’re allowed to be a bit late this morning.”

Rose nods agreeably. A good night’s sleep and pancakes for breakfast have renewed her outlook on life.

“We’ll start by looking around, listening to gossip and chatter, see what comes up.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And hopefully we can find out who’s behind Sam’s problems without having to leave Earth.”

“Were we going to leave Earth?” Rose asks.

“No. Well, probably not. More than likely not, since I don’t know how.” The Doctor sighs. “Remind me to ask all these aliens how they manage to go back and forth. There must be a way.”

“Clearly,” Rose says.

He smiles at her. “You’re in a rather good mood this morning.”

“I am,” she confirms. “Let’s go solve this thing.”

 

Donna has a promotion. She’s happy as can be about it, but with the promotion comes a whole lot of headaches. She can’t just go into her office and shut the door anymore. Now she has to run interference with people for Sam, and listen to questions that she has no answers for.

Luckily she’s being paid a lot of money to do these things. A lot of money. 

Sam is reading _Lights!Camera!Action!_ when Donna finally tracks him down.

“What are you doing?” she asks in disbelief. “There’s a hundred people out there all asking for you, and you’re in here reading your latest profile?”

He holds up the page he’s been reading. “My last interview. Went over pretty well.”

Donna shakes her head. “Geoffrey’s looking for you. I don’t know what he wants - I had no idea what he was saying.”

“Was it in English?”

“‘Course it was in English! What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. Sometimes Geoffrey forgets himself and lapses back into our mother tongue.” Sam sets the magazine down and stands up. Donna forces herself to maintain eye contact with him, even though her first reaction is to look away. He makes her nervous. Much more now that she knows who he really is.

“Was there anything else?” he asks her.

Donna shakes her head. “No. Just...just Geoffrey. He’s looking for you.”

Sam has been very careful for a very long time. He’s been hiding in plain sight for years now, and being a time agent is no invitation for a careless lifestyle. He didn’t allow himself to really notice Donna before, apart from his initial reaction of interest and appreciation.

Now, though...now she knows who he is and what he’s really doing. Her response to that was encouraging. He wonders if there could ever be a chance between them.

Not that he would act upon it, of course, he hastily adds to his mental musings. She is a human woman, and belongs here on her world with other humans. Human males.

Oh, to hell with it, Sam decides recklessly. “Donna,” he begins.

“Oh, I have to go check on one of the sets,” Donna remembers suddenly. “Something about the color of the background.”

“Clive can do that.”

“I’ll talk to you later!” Donna heads away, not looking back.

Sam folds his arms across his chest. Really, what is he thinking?

 

Paul and Fiona are having problems with the script. Well, Paul is.

“I don’t see why I don’t get to chase down the dragon,” Paul is complaining to Clive.

Clive sighs. “Paul, you are not the lead on this film, okay? And it’s not a dragon. It’s a giant mutated lizard.”

“Why not? I’m ten times better looking than Alex Fletcher.” Paul speaks the name with deep loathing.

“Yeah, but he’s ten times the actor you are,” Fiona says, filing her nails in the corner.

Paul glares at her. “No one asked you! He’s not even one of us,” he adds to Clive.

“No, he’s not. And he’s one of the few that never asks questions! He’s a big star and we’re lucky to have him. We don’t win awards by using unknowns in the leads. You think our kind of films get all the attention they deserve? It’s not like any of us are making _The Lord of the Rings_.”

Fiona shakes her head. “I don’t see how it’s as popular as it is. I mean, a movie about miniature donkeys looking for a ring? Bizarre.”

“Very,” Paul says, in agreement with her for once. “The book wasn’t much better. I don’t know where a film came from.”

“Give it a rest, Paul,” Clive advises. “Next time we’ll find you something good.”

“Don’t think I won’t mention this to Aunt Mona when I go home.”

Clive turns on him. “If you so much as complain at all about what goes on here, you will never leave Nocklyn again. Is that clear?”

Paul’s handsome face settles into a pout once Clive leaves.

“I was the top actor here before Sam started this latest project. Spock awards weren’t enough for him - he has to conquer the world now.”

“You shouldn’t have mentioned Aunt Mona,” Fiona advises him.

“She’s my aunt, not yours.”

“She’s his wife. Your family doesn’t need any extra pressure, do they? Bad enough the council is having them all watched.”

Paul turns to her. “What did you say?”

“The council. Your entire family is being watched. They don’t trust Sam. They don’t trust any of you at the moment.”

 

Some days Rose thinks her life could be a tv show. She’s the lovely young ingenue who assists the clever Doctor/detective with his cases. 

They’ve been casually touring the set, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Out on the lot one of the first scenes is being filmed. A group of scientists sit around a table and discuss the situation at hand - an upcoming alien invasion.

Rose is highly amused to see several Torchwood agents wearing white coats and acting as scientists.

“I wonder if they’ll get paid?” she asks.

“They’ll make scale,” Simon says from behind her. “They ran out of extras. Lively keeps rewriting certain scenes.”

“He does? What for?” The Doctor turns from his examination of the set.

“I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like what he wrote.” Simon nods to the group. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“The costumes. My contribution to this great work,” Simon says sardonically. “Apparently I know more about scientists than these folks do.”

Rose studies the actors. She nods seriously. “Good job.”

“Thanks.” Simon nods his head. “Come on. They’re about to start shooting.”

“Quiet on the set!” someone calls.

“Have you found anything?” the Doctor asks when they’re far enough away that no one can overhear them.

Simon shakes his head. “No, but people are all jumpy and nervous. I think we ought to activate our headsets.”

“All of us?” Rose says in surprise.

“I helped these people get dressed, Rose. None of them are acting normally. Well, as normal as I think they should be,” Simon amends. “If something is happening, we need to be aware of it.”

“It might be shooting day jitters,” she suggests.

“I think that only counts on wedding days. Doctor?”

The Doctor has been thinking hard. Now he nods slowly. “Yes. It may be normal movie making nerves. I’ve never made a movie so I don’t know.” He stops and looks at Rose. “Do you know, all this time and I’ve never made a movie? Been to my fair share, of course, starting with _The Great Train Robbery._ Was there for the first screening. 1903, it was.” 

“1903,” Simon repeats. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Or it may be some kind of group, psychic effect,” the Doctor continues. “Their race has elements of psychic powers, the ability to move objects with their minds, all kinds of fascinating abilities. They may all be sharing something on a level we can’t detect.”

“Maybe,” Rose says doubtfully. “Or it may be that they’re all nervous for a reason greater than the problems that have been going on.”

“You mean like Torchwood being aware of their psychic abilities?” Simon asks.

“Yeah, that would be a damper on things,” Rose admits.

“I have to go,” Simon tells them. “I’ll start passing the word. Have you two got your headsets?”

They do, and all three switch them on and put them in place.

“See you later,” Rose says.

The Doctor starts speaking softly as they head down to another studio hallway. “Torchwood personnel, come in. Acknowledge, please. This is the Doctor.”

One by one, the Torchwood agents reply.

The Doctor glances at Rose. “Did we give headsets to everyone?”

“Yeah. Did it myself before we left the Tower.”

“Mark from Accounting,” the Doctor says. “Can you hear me?”

“I’m here.”

“Excellent. Anything new going on in payroll?”

“No one’s been paid yet. We’ve just started work. But I have everyone’s pay records and information.”

“Perfect. Hang on to that, we may need it.”

The Doctor nods thoughtfully as he disengages his headset, allowing him to hear anyone who needs him but not letting anyone else hear what he says.

“Rose, people were nervous in wardrobe.”

“Women tell their hairdressers everything,” Rose suggests. “Let’s go see hair and makeup.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Good idea.”

Rose smiles slightly. Sometimes the pretty young ingenue really knows what she’s talking about.

The thought reminds her of something. 

“Hey,” she says, catching up with him and grabbing his arm. “No more note taking, yeah?”

“No more notes.”

 

 

Sam is an alien. From another planet. A being completely different from herself.

Yes. That’s it.

If Donna keeps repeating those words, over and over again, eventually they will seep into her brain and she will accept them.

At the moment, though, all she wants to do is - well, that’s not really professional, is it?

“You okay?” Sam Lively, alien being from another planet, asks.

Donna clears her throat. “Yes, thanks. Fine. Why?”

He gives her a strange look. “No reason. You looked like you were in pain.”

“Pain!” Donna scoffs. “No, not at all. What is it?” she asks, trying to retrieve her dignity.

He hands her a packet. “As my new assistant, would you mind going over these scenes for me? You catch things I don’t always see, and I don't want any slow ups when we shoot next week.”

“Of course.” Donna takes the packet and smiles. He’s made her his assistant - professional assistant, not personal, as he was quick to assure Derek. Donna is happy to leave Derek to the business of running Sam’s clothes to the laundry and making sure his lunch is ready when he wants it. She’s more than pleased to help him out with the details that he used to rely on Clive for. Now Clive can get to work on the more important aspects of the film, and Donna gets to work closely with Sam.

Not that that’s why she accepted the position, of course. You’d have to be mad not take a promotion and a pay rise.

Sam pauses in the doorway. “Donna...”

Donna looks up, her heart speeding up despite the fact that she knows better. “Yes?”

“Do you-”

“Sam!” Paul skids to a halt in front of him, plastering an arm to the door. “Sam, we have a problem!”

“Paul, whatever it is, it can wait,” Sam says, seriously annoyed. The boy had an absolute genius for interrupting.

“Sam, I just talked to Fiona. The council is having us watched.”

“We know that, Paul, that’s why Torchwood is here.” Sam would box the boy’s ears if they were alone. Really, he needs to think about dumping all of these relatives and using real, human actors and crew next time.

“The council isn’t just watching us here,” Paul says slowly. “They council is watching the family. _Our_ family - all of them.”

Sam suddenly can’t breathe. “Are you sure?”

“Fiona told me just now. One of her school friends is the daughter of a council member.”

“That’s not good,” Sam says in a near whisper. “They could ruin everyone if they want to.”

Donna stands up and hurries over to them. She places her hand on Sam’s arm, concerned. “Sam...”

He turns to Donna. “They could destroy businesses, take homes. All they need to do is claim that someone is a threat to stability and that person is gone.”

Donna nods. “Okay, then. Do we need to stop the movie?”

Stop the movie. Lose millions and millions on advertising, salaries and promotions.

Sam shakes his head. “We can’t. We’ve come this far. I’m not going to let them intimidate us.”

“That’s fine for us,” Paul says quietly, and it’s the first time Donna has ever seen a side of him that wasn’t vain and petty and complaining. “We’re safe here, for the most part. Barring an assassin or something, or your death. Our parents, our grandparents, everyone else is at their mercy.”

“There must be something we can do!” Donna implores Sam.

“We have to find out who’s behind this,” Sam says grimy. “Paul, come with me.”

They leave Donna standing in the doorway of her office, clasping her hands together.

 

“Clive!” Sam shouts down the corridors. “Clive, where are you?”

“Here!” His brother appears out of nowhere. “What are you shouting for? It sends a bad example.”

“Oh, shut up. Listen, the council is watching the family. They’re not going to back down. I need to go home and find out who’s doing this.”

“You can’t go home!” Clive protest. “They’ll hold you and they won’t release you.”

“I can’t leave our relatives to live in jeopardy.”

“They’re safe enough.”

“Even Aunt Mona?” Paul demands. “The kids? My grandparents?”

Clive shuts his eyes and shakes his head.

“I’m going,” Sam says firmly. “I’ll stop this.”

“Bit late for that,” Janet says from behind them. All three men turn.

“Janet?” Sam asks.

“The person behind all of this is here,” she says calmly. “We’ll find out who it is before the close of the day.”

“Stop talking like a professional fortune teller,” Clive says in disgust. 

She stares at him, unmoving, until he starts to twitch. Finally he mutters angrily and walks away.

“You can go,” Janet says in a normal voice. “I know you have things to attend to.”

Paul slowly backs down the hallway, walking away as fast as he can.

“What are you up to, Jan?” Sam asks her.

She smiles. “It’s not good for me to be around so many worried souls. It gives me a headache. But I want to make sure this ends today.”

“Do you all take lessons in alien grammar school about being cryptic?” Donna asks from behind them. “Honestly.”

Sam and Janet turn around.

Janet smiles. “Donna!”

“Janet. Hello.” Donna hopes her smile appears sincere. She feels sincere, but you never know.

“Sam was just telling me about some problems at home.”

“Yeah, I know. Any ideas?” Donna asks Sam.

He shakes his head. “We’re sitting ducks here, just waiting for something. And now our family is, too.”

Janet looks troubled, but she shakes her own head at his words. “Our family is strong, Sam. They’re not about to be intimidated by someone. None of them are.”

Yes, there is a movie to keep on schedule and some kind of weird alien madman out to get Sam, and Rose and Dr. Smith keep lurking around corners, looking for who-knows-what. Donna zeroes in on the most important fact.

“ _Your family_? Are you related, too?”

“Cousins,” the say together.

“First degree, actually,” Janet adds. “So we’re much closer to each other than some of the others here.”

“Not that you’d know it,” Sam interjects, “seeing as how they all wanted to come join me on this earthly paradise.”

Donna’s smile comes much more easily this time. “It’s a nice place.” She gestures behind her. “I need to get back. See you later.”

Sam and Janet watch her walk away.

“She will be trouble,” Janet states, but her expression is calm.

Sam looks at her. “What? Trouble how?”

Janet’s eyes have that far-away look, the look that says she’s seeing things that aren’t there.

“Trouble for you,” she says finally. And smiles.

 

No one else has noticed too much.

“It was pretty busy here,” Riley says in the hair and makeup trailer. “A bit loud to overhear anything. Laura?”

A woman with deep black hair looks up. She’s teasing a bright red wig and spraying it in place.

“Didn’t hear anything,” Laura says. “Cleo?”

Cleo, the makeup artist, is busy making up an actor’s face. “No,” she says shortly.

“Look,” Rose begins, “we’re here to help all of you, not to cause trouble. The sooner we figure this out the sooner everything will be back to normal.”

“Torchwood knows about us now,” Laura says quietly. “Things won’t ever be normal again.”

“You have nothing to fear from us,” the Doctor says in a voice that reassuring and yet implacable. “As long as there’s nothing you’re hiding.”

“That was a bust,” Rose says outside the trailer.

“Well, they’re scared. And nervous.” The Doctor sighs and looks around. The set is a crazy mix of people and actors, all running around to get somewhere. Alien costumes come and go as actors are called to take their places.

“Kind of takes the fun out of it all,” Rose says wistfully. “Movies seemed so magical when I was a kid.”

“Well, we have a new kind of magic now. Aliens and alien tech.” He pronounces the last words with relish.

Rose laughs and shakes her head. “You’re such a dork.”

 

The Doctor has found his way into the special effects trailer, where no one is traditionally allowed to go.

“What the hell are you doing here?” a man asks.

The Doctor smiles at him. “Hello! Just looking around here. I love what you’ve done here.” He nods to a latex face mask of what appears to be a Judoon crossed with an elephant. “Mind if I take a look at some of your equipment?”

The man scowls at him. “I don’t know who you are, but you’d better leave.”

“I’m Torchwood,” the Doctor says simply.

“Then you definitely have to leave.”

“I’m not here to trap you or hunt you or hurt you. I’m here because your boss asked me to help. The only alternative to that is to close up shop and head back home.”

The man sighs. “What is it that you want?”

 

“An alien tech scanner,” Rose repeats. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?” the Doctor asks proudly.

“It looks like a water gun.”

“Rose!”

It does look like water gun. A water gun with a small supercomputer strapped to the barrel and various bits of string and other material wrapped all around it.

“What do you use for that, anyway?”

“It’s amazing the stuff you find in a special effects trailer run by extraterrestrial beings,” he tells her excitedly. 

“Yeah, tell me about that later. Let’s go use it.”

“When you hear a beep, that will be something that’s not human in nature.”

“That means most of the lot here.”

“Tech-wise, not person-wise.”

It’s a long hour of walking around, pointing the water gun/alien tech detector at various places. Rose is just about to excuse herself to go do something more useful when the thing finally beeps.

“Was that a noise?” she asks in surprise.

“Yeah.” The Doctor regards the water gun closely. “Nice. I was starting to have my doubts.”

“Were you?”

“Not really. But I could tell that you were flagging.” The Doctor waves it around and it beeps again. “Hmm.”

They’re standing in the back of the main studio building. People walk in and out of here all day, and it’s the only point of entry to get on the studio lot. The Doctor walks in one direction, then reverses it when no more beeps are heard. Finally he hears it again.

“I think it’s coming from that closet.” Rose walks to a supply closet and tries the knob. “Locked.”

The beeping increases. Rose bends down and examines the doorknob. “Hand me a pen,” she says.

“A what?” the Doctor asks over the beeping. He glances over his shoulder to make sure that they're not attracting attention.

“Your pen,” she says impatiently, holding out her hand.

He fishes a pen out of his pocket and hands it to her.

“Can’t you turn that off?” Rose asks as she jimmies the pen in the lock.

“I’m trying. What are you doing there?”

“Bit of jiggery pokery.” Rose carefully bends the pen to the left. “Ha! Got it!” She turns the knob and the door opens wide.

“Nice,” he says approvingly.

“Thanks.”

“Where’d you pick that trick up, anyway?”

She smiles. “Oh, Jake and Mickey taught me a thing or two, back when the three of us were here.”

“Must have been a great time.”

“Sometimes,” she says noncommittally. “When I wasn’t trying to think of how to get back to you it was.”

“All’s well in the end.” The Doctor turns off his water gun and looks around. “Hmm.”

“‘Hmm’?”

He bends down next to a set of wire pipes leading out to what Rose thinks might be a water heater or air purifier.

“What is it?” Rose leans down to take a look.

“It’s a leak, here in the air system.” He points to the spot so she can see for herself.

Rose kneels down on the floor beside him. She leans in so close he can smell her shampoo.

“There?”

“Yeah. They have these installed throughout the place. Cleans out the oxygen because they can’t stand too much of it. Filters it a bit. Not enough to hurt any humans, but enough to keep them healthy.”

“That says oxygen.”

“Yeah. It does. Oxygen. Just a slow leak, not much at all at first, but let it build up and eventually you poison any creature who has a low tolerance for it. Like anyone from the planet Nocklyn.”

Rose looks around the room. “We could get a crime team down here.”

“Yeah, but to what end? Fingerprints? Whoever did this won’t be in any government system. They’re alien, just like the others here.”

“That’s not encouraging.”

The Doctor stands up. “Right. Come on, Lewis.”

“We on the case?”

“Oh, we’re on the case,” he assures her.


	28. But as you walked into my life/ You showed what needed to be shown

Jake crouches down beside the Doctor and examines the air system.

“That makes sense,” he says finally, looking back at Rose. “Someone is trying to poison the air here.”

“Okay,” Rose says slowly. “There are over 100 people here, between the cast and crew and Torchwood. How do we find out who it is?”

“We build the tools we need,” the Doctor says. “Jake, find out if there are any more of these systems around. Check their oxygen levels and make sure they’re adjusted back to what is normal for our alien friends’ physiology.”

Jake stands up. “What are you going to do?” he asks. He’s worked with the Doctor long enough to respect his opinion and trust his methods. Jake’s never gotten over the Doctor saving the world from the Cybermen. In his eyes the Doctor will always be able to fix everything. 

The Doctor thinks for a moment. “I don’t know yet. But I’m going to build the device that will let us do it.”

 

“So what are you planning?” Rose asks. They’ve gone back to Torchwood. She’s standing inside the Doctor’s lab, watching him stack materials onto a table. He’s on the floor beside a cabinet, taking out cables and monitors and small blinking lights.

The Doctor pokes his head over the top of the cabinet, peering at her from across the table. 

“That air system was designed to filter out the harmful oxygen, correct?”

Rose nods. “Correct,” she confirms.

“And we know that oxygen harms Nocklyns. Nockylners.” The Doctor stands up and looks thoughtfully at the wall. “Nocklynites? What do they call themselves, anyway?” 

Rose opens her mouth but he continues before she can answer his question.

“No matter. They cannot tolerate too much more oxygen than is already in our environment. They filter out a bit of it, giving them enough leeway to survive but allowing any nearby humans to function normally. That can be a tricky business, adjusting breathing air to suit several different species simultaneously. I remember once there was a pub on Barnoss-Eight-Mark-Nine that tried to host Julipgers and Morhaws. Nasty business. The resulting methane explosion destroyed an entire street.” 

Rose nods and tunes out the rest of it as she watches his start to stack the pile into smaller piles. He is still her Doctor, the same as before. Same face, same memories, same great hair. _Really great hair,_ she thinks to herself with a grin. He’s not quite as talkative now, which she thinks may be a result of the meta-crisis. Although there are times when that gob is still very much in evidence.

“Allowing oxygen back into the environment at the studio would eventually poison Sam’s people without their knowledge. By the time they figured it out it would be too late. Here, come hold this.”

Rose holds out a hand and accepts the small chip he places in her palm. “What is that?”

“I’m building a detector. Whoever altered the air system knows about the effects of oxygen. That means they’re either from Nocklyn or has information from someone there.”

“Makes sense,” Rose agrees. And it does, which is more than you could say about some of the things he says.

“So, therefore, they must have a mechanism in place somewhere to filter out the extra oxygen.”

“Like a...a breathing mask or something?”

“Well, not like Darth Vader or anything.” He smiles at her. “Although that would make it easier to find, wouldn’t it? No, I just need to set this little tracker to a level that will detect the exchange of gases that approximates a Nocklyn being breathing the air levels it’s meant to, instead of what the local studio air is set to.”

The Doctor holds up the completed product, a small square disk. “Easy peasy, eh?”

“Easy peasy,” Rose agrees. “Are we gonna find them?”

“Oh, yes.”

 

Jake is checking each air cleaning system installed at the studio. Fifteen of them, spread out amongst different closets and small rooms. All but three were adjusted to give off poisonous levels of oxygen. The only ones left untouched were in the main lobby, Sam’s office, and security.

Pulling out his mobile, he dials a number back at Torchwood.

“Can you run some numbers for me?” he asks. Calling out the numbers, he waits for a response. “Now can you multiply that by 12 and run the probability of-” He stops and listens. “Oh. That’s not good.”

Hanging up, he activates his headset. “Simon? You there?”

“I’m here, Jake. What’s up?”

“Trouble.”

Jake hears Simon sigh. “Of course. Hang on, I’ll be there as soon as I finish scanning this costume for alien bugs.”

“They’re bugging the costumes?” Jake asks, puzzled.

“No. Bugs. The material came from outer space. I’ve been warned that an infestation of grimspace manna bugs is very bad for fabric. Apparently.”

Jake shakes his head. “This place is mad, eh?”

“You’re telling me,” Simon’s voice answers. “Grimspace bugs never come this far east of the solar system.”

Jake takes a few moments to consider that last comment, not sure whether or not Simon was joking. Finally he lets it go, hoping that he never has need to worry about space bugs, grim or otherwise.

Jake is in a small supply room near the rear of the main studio building. He knows where he is without checking a map. Directly behind the back wall is the back of the building. A few meters beyond that, the movie sets are constructed, waiting for their scenes. Actors and crews are out there right now, shooting scenes and blocking scenes and rehearsing.

Jake had always imagined that moviemaking would be more fun. This is a lot of waiting around for lighting and sound and actors to get ready.

He closes the door to the tiny closet that houses the air cleaning system. Looking around the walls, he spots a small depression in the wall opposite to him. He opens the small door, half expecting to find switches and levers or circuit breakers.

It’s something else entirely.

Cursing, he fumbles for his mobile. “Control,” he says hastily, “find the Doctor. Now.”

 

“Where’s the Doctor?” Sam asks Donna, poking his head into her office.

Donna looks up. “I don’t know. Around somewhere, I guess.”

“Thought you’d know.” Sam comes all the way in and sits down. “You seem to be pretty friendly with him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call us friends, exactly.” Donna pauses to think about that. She’s not about to call him up and suggest that they have drinks or anything. He’s too mysterious. Too many things happen around him to make her comfortable with him. There are secrets behind those eyes, and Donna’s not sure she wants to know what they are.

“He’s here because of Janet. She thought he could help us.”

“Why? Because of Torchwood?”

Sam hesitates to tell her the truth. She clearly doesn’t know that Janet thinks Dr. Smith might be an alien himself. Janet might be wrong. Either way, it’s not his place to say it, even though aliens have popped out all over the place lately.

“Something like that,” he says finally. “Thank you, Donna, for what you did with Dr. Smith and Rose.”

“Anyone would have done the same.”

“No, not anyone,” he corrects her. “If it weren’t for you half the movie and television studios in town would be shut down. As it is, a lot of us haven’t returned.”

“Should be a boon for all those unemployed actors in London.”

“Yes.” Sam studies his hands. “Donna. Are you afraid of me?”

The pen Donna’s been holding drops. “What? Afraid? Of you?”

He looks at her steadily. “Are you?”

“No! Of course not!” And she’s not. He’s never given her reason to be afraid of him.

“Is it because I’m your boss?”

Donna stares at him helplessly. How can she tell him what she’s feeling when she doesn’t know herself? It was one thing when he was just Sam, but an alien is something she doesn’t know she can deal with.

“It’s all right.” Sam smiles easily and stands up. “You have no reason to be afraid of me, Donna. Not ever.”

He leaves her sitting at her desk, staring blankly at papers she can’t see properly.

 

“Here we are!” The Doctor’s enthusiasm is contagious, and Rose all but skips to the studio door and opens it with a flourish for him.

“What are you doing, holding the door for me?” he asks her. Usually he’s the one who opens doors.

“Come on! Let’s go solve this. Then we can go find a new estate agent.”

He comes to a halt there in lobby, under the watchful gaze of Mary Beth, who finally agreed to come back to work when Sam went to fetch her in person.

“A new agent?”

“Well, we can’t use Sally, can we? Hello, Mary Beth!”

“Hello.”

The Doctor follows her down the familiar hallways until they reach the outside of Donna’s office.

“You still want to look for a house?”

“Yes, I do. Haven’t we discussed this enough?” Rose asks. “We’re doing it, yeah?”

“Yeah.” There are still things they need to talk about, things he needs to tell her, but they have to wait.

“I want this,” Rose says quietly. “I love you. This is it.”

He leans down and kisses her quickly. “Me, too.”

They share a slow smile, foreheads touching. The door to Donna’s office opens.

“Oh, come on!” she says in extreme annoyance. “Don’t you two get enough of that at home?”

Rose breaks away, trying not to smile.

The Doctor looks like he would like to expound at length on biological meta-crises, and what it means to go from a Time Lord to a human flooded with hormones, but obviously, this Donna Noble is not the best person to talk to about any of that.

“Sorry,” he says instead. “Very unprofessional. You’re right, won’t happen again.”

Donna raises an eyebrow. “Goodness, me. What’s the occasion? You’re usually never wrong.”

“Off day,” he says shortly.

Rose is not telepathic, never has been. But she can follow the train of his thinking close enough.

“It’s nothing,” she assures Donna. “We’re gonna go and see what we can find out.”

“About what?” Donna asks, but Rose has already followed the Doctor down the hallway.

Someday, Donna promises herself, she’s going to get the real story on them.

“Love?” Rose hurries to catch up with him.

“I’m turning this on,” the Doctor tells her. “Get ready.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah. It hasn’t exploded yet.” He eyes it carefully, fairly certain that it won’t be exploding today.

“No, with Donna, back there.”

He sighs. “Rose, she’s Donna. I keep thinking she ought to know things that she doesn’t. I keep wanting to talk to her. Tell her how much I miss her. But I can’t, because she has no idea what I’m talking about if I do that.”

“Look, I know we can’t exactly explain it to her right now, but afterwards-”

“Rose. Don’t.” He swallows hard. “She would never understand. There’s no point.”

Rose would like to say more, but she knows that when he’s decided on something it’s pretty hard to change his mind.

“Okay,” she says quietly. She is committed to helping him through this human life, and she will do whatever he needs.

“Okay.” He nods at the device in his hand. “Let’s go track down some stuff.”

“Okay,” Rose says again. She files this away to be dealt with once this mission is over with. This, and all the other things they still haven’t talked about. 

 

Jake shows Simon what he’s found.

Simon is too shocked to even swear, which is his usual response to something very, very bad. 

“Did you tell anyone else?” he finally asks.

“Just you. Control is looking for the Doctor.”

“He’s not here on set?” Simon is lying flat on the floor, trying to look underneath the wall through a small grate.

“He went back to the Tower to get some equipment together.”

“He might not have his mobile.” Simon grunts as he tries to force a hand through a grate that is much too narrow. “Try Rose.” He withdraws his hand and starts pulling at the grate. It’s screwed to the wall, but he has no tools and no time to go looking for some.

Jake joins him on the floor, and together they get their fingers through the metal and wrench it from the wall.

They’re both carried backwards by the momentum. Dropping the grate, Simon edges forward on his knees and looks inside the wall. Jake joins him. They stay motionless for a long moment, staring at the object inside. Then they turn to look at one another.

This time Simon does swear. “There’s no time for the Doctor, is there?”

 

Rose picks up her mobile. “Rose Tyler,” she says cheerily. Beside her the Doctor is running his device over the air cleaner they found, trying to find traces of the person who was there last.

“Rose Tyler, this is Control. You and the Doctor are needed at Jake Simmonds’ location immediately.”

“Where is he?”

“He is requesting radio silence on this one. Please use his Torchwood tracking chip.”

“All right,” Rose says slowly.

The Doctor is already fumbling in his pocket for the small remote that will let him activate the chips in the security passes. He punches in Jake’s code from memory and waits.

“He’s in the back of the building.”

“Let’s go.”

Jake and Simon are sitting on the floor together when they arrive in the room.

“Close the door!” they say together.

Rose shuts the door behind her. The Doctor abandons his device and walks to them.

“What are you doing?”

“There is a bomb in here,” Simon says carefully. “A large, alien bomb with nothing familiar about it.”

“But there is a countdown timer,” Jake adds.

“There is a countdown timer,” Simon amends. “And it’s counting down to now.”

“Now?” the Doctor repeats in alarm.

“ _Now._ As in twenty minutes from now. It’s been here for some time, from the looks of it, counting down.”

The Doctor pushes his way to the wall, where the small bomb is sitting. He takes his glasses out of his pocket and leans in closely.

“Oh, that’s bad. Very, very bad.”

Rose joins them, standing up and looking down over their heads. “Do you know what it is?”

The Doctor sighs. “No. The planet Nocklyn is unique to this universe, apparently. I’ve not seen the likes of this before, but we need to evacuate before this goes off.”

“Whoever’s after Sam means business,” Rose agrees. She takes out her phone and looks at her watch. “Right. Travis! We have to evacuate the entire area. Immediately.” Rose frowns and looks at her phone. “Travis?”

“Where’s he gone to?” the Doctor asks, eyes still on the bomb. “Jake, see if that blue wire connects to anything in the wall.”

“We got cut off.” Rose activates her headset. “Ian, you there? Ian? Ian!”

Simon tries his own headset. “Ian, Riley, come in.”

“Something’s wrong,” the Doctor says without looking.

Rose nods in agreement. “I’ll go find-” She comes to an abrupt stop as she turns around and sees someone standing there who wasn’t there a moment before. “Can I help you?”

“What are you doing in here?” The man is tall and dressed in black and grey, and he looks very displeased to find them all here.

At the sound of his voice, the Doctor, Simon and Jake all look over. Simon slowly comes to his feet.

“We’re Torchwood,” Rose says. “Remember? We’re here to find out who is threatening Sam.”

The man smiles. “Oh, that won’t be necessary anymore.”

“Why not?” Simon asks challengingly.

“Because that’s me. Here I am. You found me.” He spreads his arms wide.

Jake stands and reaches for his gun. The man shrugs.

“You can certainly try, but it won’t get you very far. This room has been de-magnetized. Human weapons and equipment will not work in here. Just my little toy there.”

“We have to shut this off,” the Doctor says, his tone that of one talking to a madman. “It’s going to explode.”

“It better, for the price I paid to get it here. I’ll be gone, of course, but you’ll all still be here.” He holds up a small black square, only as large as the palm of his hand. “Remote detonator, of course.”

“What was your name again?” Rose asks. She knows him, of course. She’s trying to stall him, giving Jake and Simon a chance to try and contact someone on the outside. 

He smiles. “I’m Geoffrey.”

“Geoffrey,” Jake says under his breath, headset activated in case it suddenly starts working. “It’s Geoffrey.”

“You might as well stop trying,” Geoffrey says to Jake. “I told you, your human equipment won’t work in this room.”

Simon closes his mobile and stands up. 

“You’re the assistant director.”

“Didn’t pay too much attention to me, did you? You just assumed that we were all trustworthy, that we were all Sam’s people.”

“But you are,” Rose says in confusion. “His family, his-”

“I’m no friend of his!” Geoffrey says angrily. 

The Doctor abandons his attempts to uncover the secrets of the bomb. He stands up slowly, walking to stand beside but slightly in front of Rose.

“You have set a bomb here that is going kill everyone around us,” he says quietly. “That’s mass murder.”

“Sam is going to bring destruction to our planet if he continues. He needs to be stopped.”

“Not by killing!” the Doctor says angrily.

“He wouldn’t listen! And now it’s time to pay the price.” Geoffrey raises the detonator. 

“No!” Rose cries.

“Stop!”

Sam is at the door. “Geoffrey, stop! What the hell are you doing?”

“What I should have done a long time ago, Sam.” Geoffrey smiles pleasantly, an attractive men in a business suit, who happens to be holding the means to murder in his hand. “Nothing personal. Actually, yes, it is personal. Sorry.”

Sam eases into the room. The Doctor takes a step forward, but Geoffrey holds out an arm.

“I wouldn’t, Dr. Smith. I really wouldn’t.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sam asks quietly. “You know how hard I worked to get here.”

“Oh, I know exactly how hard you worked! You’ve exposed us all to the outside, and if you’re not stopped the council will stop you themselves. The more famous you become the more dangerous it is for the rest of us. It’s better for you this way.”

“You’re gong to kill everyone here!” Simon says angrily. “How is that better for him?”

Geoffrey spares a glance for the humans standing ranged behind him. “He dies, so do all the people here. But the remainder of his family on Nocklyn stays alive.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sam says slowly.

“Wouldn’t I? Destroy the most powerful family on Nocklyn? I’d get a medal.”

Sam refuses to believe it. “The council would never agree to that. They would never risk the destruction of my family. There are too many of us. The government would collapse. The economy-”

“Yes, a rather large power vacuum would be left, but I’d be there to help fill it. As soon as the council finds out my part, it should be worth the pain and heartbreak we’ll have to go through.” Geoffrey smiles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do need to teleport myself off this rock.”

“They don’t know,” Sam says suddenly, gazing hard at Geoffrey. “They don’t know you’re doing this.”

“Not yet. But they will. If I wait for them to act it will be another ten years before anything is done, and by that time you’ll be so bloody popular that the entire galaxy will know about it.”

“Now, Jake,” the Doctor says suddenly, and whatever Jake does makes the bomb start beeping. Geoffrey turns around at the sound, and Simon throws his non-working mobile his way. Ducking his head, Geoffrey’s attention is diverted, and the Doctor reaches out and handily grabs the detonator.

Just as swiftly, Geoffrey bolts for the door, knocking Sam aside.

“Hey!” The Doctor tears off after him.

“Don’t let him teleport!” Rose follows. Sam follows _her._

Jake and Simon stare at the empty space, and then at each other, and then at the bomb.

“Still ticking,” Jake observes. 

“Is that what the Doctor wanted it to do?” Simon asks.

“I don’t know.”

“What the hell - if it blows up it blows up.” 

And Simon and Jake join the chase.

Geoffrey runs down hallways, knocking people over as he does so.

“Get out of the way!” the Doctor yells. “Don’t try to stop him.”

“What?” Rose gasps from behind him. “Stop him!”

‘“The teleport may be linked to the bomb!” the Doctor shouts over his shoulder. “No telling what would happen!”

Geoffrey has led them out of the building and around to another entrance. Looking wildly over his shoulder, he wrenches open an emergency exit door and heads back inside. The Doctor is at the door before it can close.

“What the hell’s he doing?” Sam gasps, catching up to Rose and running past her.

He’s led them back to the room with the bomb. The Doctor realizes this and bursts forward in an excess of speed, afraid that Geoffrey will somehow set off the bomb without the detonator. He catches up with Geoffrey in the hallway, launching himself forward and tackling him at the knees.

“Nice,” Rose says admiringly, stopping to finally catch her breath.

“Geoffrey, you miserable son of-” Sam has waited until Geoffrey was standing again. Now he hits him with a punch to the jaw. Geoffrey retaliates in kind, his hand hitting the Doctor as he aims for Sam, and soon there is a brawl underway. Simon and Jake arrive and immediately join in, trying to separate the men.

“Travis, where the hell is security?” Rose demands into her headset.

Sam manages to subdue Geoffrey with a punch to the nose.

Geoffrey yells and holds a hand to the nose, which is now bleeding. Sam holds on tight to his arm.

“Don’t try to teleport,” he says grimly. “I’ve got a vortex manipulator that will disintegrate you on the spot.”

“The bomb’s still going,” Jake reports. “Any thoughts?”

They all turn to the Doctor, who’s holding a hand to his own jaw. He walks into the room, followed by Sam, who shoves Geoffrey in front of him. Rose and Simon follow.

“Tell me how to turn this off,” the Doctor says.

“I don’t think so.”

“Tell him,” Donna’s voice says from the door. She’s standing there, quite calmly, in a rather pretty pantsuit in dark purple. Her hair is curled around her face and she’s braced in the doorway, in shoes with tall skinny heels that Rose instantly covets for herself. In her hand is a large black gun. It’s pointed directly at Geoffrey.

“The blue wire was first,” the Doctor says. “Jake will next pull out the green one. Which I don’t think you want him to do with you in the room, since that’s the one connected to this detonator in my hand. So either turn off the bomb, or I put this back in your hand and Jake pulls the wire.”

“Or I can just shoot you,” Donna says, waving the gun.

“Or Donna can just shoot you,” the Doctor amends.

Slowly, Geoffrey turns an angry glare on the Doctor. “The keypad,” he says. “Type in 999.”

Simon crouches done and does so, carefully.

“Timer’s stopped,” he reports in relief. Suddenly overcome, he sits back on the floor. “Eight minutes from explosion,” he adds.

“Is the room un-de-magnetized?” the Doctor demands.

“Yes.” Geoffrey appears to deflate.

Rose’s phone starts to ring. She looks at the incoming number and shakes her head. “Travis? About time. We have a security issue. Bring your handcuffs.”

“I’m sure the justice system on your planet is quite fair and equitable,” the Doctor says cheerfully. “Of course, that won’t be until after you’ve spoken with Torchwood.”

Rose shoots him a startled glance. He meets it, and she sees the resolution in his eyes.

“He attempted to murder innocent people here,” he says. 

“That’s fine,” Donna interrupts. “Let Torchwood have him.” 

“We’ll have to remove this,” Simon says, looking down at the bomb. “If we can take it apart it would be pretty valuable.”

Jake looks down. “I’m not going to be the one to do that, mate.”   
Sam walks over to Donna. Heedless of the gun she’s still holding, he frames her face in his hands, looks into her eyes for a long moment, and gives her a long, slow kiss.

 

The studio shuts down for the day so Torchwood’s sweepers can make sure nothing else is waiting for them. By the time the building is cleared, it’s late into the night. Sam and Donna are sitting in his office with Rose and the Doctor. It’s been an exhausting day of interviews, searches and paperwork.

“I made him the assistant director for this movie,” Sam says. “He had access to all the shooting schedules. He decided when we would be shooting each scene. He was able to plan the bomb to go off when the maximum number of people were here on set. He thought the council would reward him for taking care of me.”

“Would they have done?” Rose asks.

“I don’t think so. The council was never thrilled with me, but they wouldn’t condone murder. Not the murder of so many of us.”

“And you, yourself?” Rose continues, remembering what Geoffrey had said. “You’re a pretty important person back there?”

“My family has been prominent for many generations. It would have done a lot of damage for so many of us to be killed.”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor says. “It’s not easy to be betrayed by a friend.”

Sam sighs. “No, it’s not.”

“Anyway, we found out what was going on,” Donna says, determined to be cheerful. “That’s good. Now we can work finish the movie up.”

The Doctor looks at Rose. She looks tired. Her clothes are smudged from the searches she’s conducted, and he doesn’t think either of them has eaten since breakfast. He doesn’t have to read her mind to know that all she wants is a hot shower and a long sleep.

“Now we can finish a lot of things,” he says, still looking at Rose.

“That’d be nice,” she says softly.

 

 

“It’s so weird,” Donna says the next morning, gazing at the Doctor over a glass of orange juice. “I get the strangest feeling sometimes that I know you. I mean, we like the same stuff in our coffee, the same kind of movies. We say the same thing sometimes. It’s like we’re long lost twins or something.”

He rolls his eyes. “As if! We look nothing like each other.”

“Don’t I know it. You’re far too skinny, spaceman.”

He looks at her quickly. “Why do you call me that?”

She looks surprised. “‘Cos you work at Torchwood, dummy! All of you are either spacemen or Martians trying to lock each other up. Don’t know how you do it.”

He shrugs.

“Where are you from, anyway?” Donna asks curiously.

“Far from here,” he says quietly. “You wouldn’t know it.”

“Go on, then. I was an ace at geography. Where?”

He looks up from his drink and into her eyes. “Gallifrey,” he says quietly. 

“Gallifrey,” Donna echoes. “That’s a lovely name. Where is it? Ireland?”

He smiles sadly at that. “No. It’s long since gone.”

Donna doesn’t really understand, but she covers his hand with her own. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Thanks. It’s all right. I have Rose.”

“Is that enough?” Donna asks carefully. “My dad is gone, but I still have my mum and my granddad. Can’t be easy being all alone.”

“I’ve been alone for a long time. I’ve got Rose and her family now.”

“Family’s important. Even though my mum drives me mad.”

He nods, a sad expression in his eyes when he looks at her that she still doesn’t understand.

“Family’s important,” he agrees. “So are friends. It’s hard when you lose either one.”

“That’s why it’s better when you find one.”

 

“I told you!” Janet says gleefully, walking around the studio with Sam. “Someone close to you.”

“Well, how was I to know it was someone I’d known for over sixty years?” he demands irritably. 

“Are they going to release him?”

“Who, Torchwood? Not for a long while, I imagine. I’ll let them break him and then request that he be sent home. They might even listen to me.”

“You know that won’t be much better.” Nocklyn likes privacy and has a real dislike of people who break laws.

“I know it won’t. If they frown upon me doing this, they won’t be too pleased with his attempt to commit a terrorist act on a foreign planet.”

“And how are things with Donna? I hear she saved the day.”

“Literally,” he says proudly. “Snatched a gun from a security guard and took care of things on her own. She’s absolutely brilliant.”

“Is she?” Janet is amused by this. “Good.”

He shoots her a quick look. “What do you know? What do you see?”

She only smiles as she raises her up to drink. “Oh, you’ll find out.”

“You know, I hate that about you. Mistress of the enigmatic remark. Would it kill you to tell me something directly for once?”

“How much of a mess did he leave you in here?” she asks instead.

“Not too much, since it’s still early days. If he’d waited he could have damaged the studio a lot more, what with replacement costs and salaries and equipment.”

“Will you be very behind schedule?”

“I don’t think so. We’ll lose some money on this, and I’ll have to replace Geoffrey, but we should make it up when the movie is released.”

“If you don’t?”

“Well, I have another film in mind,” he admits. “More of a, a love story.”

Janet smirks. “Alien and human fall in love, live happily ever after?”

“I was thinking more of an alien and human falling in love, traveling the stars.”

Janet shakes her head. “That will never sell.”


	29. Just an ordinary boy in love

_Please come with me,_  
See what I see.  
Touch the stars for time will not flee.  
Time will not flee.  
Can you see? 

It’s been a busy few weeks. Torchwood is done with their investigation of the studio. Shooting is almost done, and Sam had asked Rose and the Doctor to remain until the end, just in case. They were happy to agree. The other Torchwood personnel all were glad for the chance to return to alien work. Simon, especially, was relieved to be done with costumes.

On a free afternoon, Rose and the Doctor take a drive. 

“I didn’t get a chance to see much,” he is saying, “but it looked promising.”

“Will Edmund be there?”

“Oh, not much point without Edmund, is there?”

The Doctor stops the car. “This is it.” He gets out and meets Rose by the front of the car. 

“Hello there!” Rose hears a voice say.

“Is that Edmund?” she asks.

“Yep.” The Doctor pops the p and looks rather pleased with himself. “Come on, then,”

“Everything all right?” Edmund asks. He’s their new estate agent, found by the Doctor after a three-day search. He and the Doctor have been working closely on the house issue for the past week or so, leaving Rose to hope the Doctor knows what he’s doing. She’d decided the best way to get through it was to let him be in charge. It’s harder to show a fear of commitment when you’re the one looking for the home to commit to.

“Hi,” she says, holding out her hand to Edmund. “I’m Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose.” He’s an earnest looking man in glasses and a three-piece suit. “I want to assure you that I am 100% human, with full accreditations and references.”

Rose looks to the Doctor. He shrugs. 

“I thought it best if I knew all those things right off. Saves a lot of hassle later on, as you know.”

“Yes,” Rose agrees in amusement.

“This is a new listing,” Edmund explains. “Based on what John has told me, I thought you’d like to see it.”

As they stand on the street Rose can see part of the house, hidden behind some trees and flower beds. If it’s anything like its neighbors, it’s a good-sized house. Not as big as the mansion, but more than what you would call a modest home. It’s painted a light blue. 

“It’s pretty,” she says.

“The price is slightly on the high end of what you want to spend,” Edmund admits, handing them each a listing page on the house. “It’s a very good neighborhood, good schools.” He glances at Rose as he says this, and she smiles to herself. He thinks Pete Tyler’s daughter has certain expectations for a home. 

They follow Edmund to the front door. The walk is paved with stones and edged with rosebushes. Someone has put a lot of time and care into them. As Edmund start to unlock the door, Rose and the Doctor both come to a sudden stop. Look at the door. Look at each other.

The door is blue. Bright blue. A bright blue found on certain police call boxes. A beautiful, bright blue they haven’t seen in some time.

The Doctor smiles in confused pleasure. Rose steps up and gently touches the door.

“It’s a bit much,” Edmund says from behind her, “but you can always paint it. It’s a quick fix.”

“No,” Rose says, speaking for both of them. “It’s perfect.”

 

 

“Lovely,” Jackie says. “It’s gorgeous. A bit small, though, isn’t it?”

“Listen to you! How big was our council flat?” Rose demands.

“Things have changed since then,” Jackie says defensively.

“Whatever,” Rose teases her.

“Mum! My camera broke!” Tony sounds distraught by this.

“Oh, it’s all right, sweetheart,” Jackie soothes him.

“But it won’t take pictures anymore!”

“Don’t worry, love, we’ll fix it.”

“Let me take a look,” the Doctor says, and holds out his hand for Tony’s recording device.

They’ve just signed the papers to the house. It belongs to them now. Jackie has brought Tony by to have a look. She’s approved of the size of the house, the layout, even the newly remodeled kitchen. The number of bedrooms - four - delighted her to no end, although she didn’t make any comments about filling them. 

They’re standing by the stone wall in the back garden. If the bright blue door was reason enough to like the house, the large expanse of lawn is the reason they said yes. The lawn, and also the small blue shed in the back. A smaller version of the house, it will be the perfect place, so says the Doctor, to maintain the TARDIS until it’s ready to fly.

Tony was standing on the stone wall when he dropped the camera. The Doctor examines it closely. “We can probably fix this,” he says. “I’ll just take it into work and-”

“We can take care of it,” Jackie says hastily. “You ready, Tony?”

Tony wraps his arms around the Doctor’s neck. “Bye, John.”

“Bye, Tony.” The Doctor hugs him back. He quite loves this little person, Rose’s small brother. They haven’t been around for the last few weeks, but now they can go back to normal family dinners and playing with Tony and letting Jackie drive them all spare with something or other.

Jackie kisses Rose on the cheek. She takes Tony by the hand and then surprises the Doctor by kissing him as well.

“Good job,” she tells him. “It’s perfect for you two.”

There’s a look in her eyes that makes him smile despite himself. 

“Room to grow,” he tells her. She smiles back at him, two conspirators sharing a secret.

“Goodbye, loves!” Jackie says cheerfully. “Love you!”

“Love you, too!” Rose calls. They wave as Jackie lets herself out the side gate.

They turn and face each other, much they way they faced each other on the beach in Norway a few months back. There are things they both need to say, both need to hear, but somehow they know it’s not time yet.

Rose turns and looks at the shed. “Is that a good place?”

“It’s the exact right spot,” he says. And it is. Even the door is painted bright blue to match the house’s front door.

Rose hugs him tightly, appreciating again the fact that he’s standing here with her. She watched him die, watched him become someone else, watched him get hit by a Dalek and live. She watched him stand beside her as her world was ending. He’s never left her and he never will.

Some things are stronger than words.

 

Last two days of shooting. Just one more scene to go. Sam can’t believe he’s finally reached this point. There are still weeks and months of work ahead - editing and musical scores and all kinds of things, but he’s here, finally. Nothing can go wrong now.

“Something’s gone wrong,” Clive says without preamble, finding Sam on the lot, just about to take a seat in his director’s chair.

“Fix it,” Sam says impatiently. “We’re going to get the opening sequence here.”

“Never mind the opening sequence. We have nothing for the last scene of the movie.”

“What?”

“We have nothing for the last scene. Why is there nothing ready for it? How will we close the movie?”

“I’ll be right back,” Sam says to Derek. “Keep the cast and crew right here.”

He strides back to his office. “We have a script,” he says. “Storyboards. This shouldn’t be possible.”

“Then tell me what’s gone wrong. You’re the one who wrote the thing.”

“Yes, I wrote it. And I know how it’s supposed to end.”

They walk into Sam’s office and find Donna there already, rifling through a stack of papers.

“I thought you were directing the opening sequence outside,” she says. “Don’t tell me it’s raining.”

“What’s gone wrong with the ending sequence?” Sam demands. “Clive says there’s not one.”

“Of course there is. We changed the schedule for shooting before Geoffrey...well, we never changed it back.”

Sam turns on his brother, relieved to have an outlet.

“Clive, you idiot. You’re gong to give me a bloody heart attack. You see one error and you assume it’s doom and gloom for everyone.”

“You did a last rewrite on this just the other day,” Donna adds.

“How was I to know you did a rewrite last week?” Clive demands. “I’ve been at Lightvision all week trying to settle things there and explain what happened without telling anyone we’re all aliens from another planet!” 

“That’s because you don’t care about rewrites! That’s why I write the screenplays.”

“Both of you calm down,” Donna says firmly. “I have it right here.”

Sam and Clive both relax. Clive is just grateful that someone else here is able to take on some responsibility.

Sam is just glad that Donna is here, period. They haven’t had a chance to talk much since the day he kissed her, but they’ve been having a nice time just working together and having lunch. By the end of the day they’re both too exhausted to do anything but go to their respective homes and sleep. But he has big plans for her once this is finished.

By the look on her face as she’s watching him, Donna has some big plans for him, too.

Clive shakes his head. “You’re in for it with that one.”

“Shut up,” Sam murmurs with a grin.

“All right,” Donna says, flipping to the pages she wants. “Here we are. We switched from a final sequence of parties and celebration-”

“Oh, good,” Clive interrupts. “It was all bit like the new release of _Return of the Jedi_ there, with all the celebrations on different planets after the Emperor died.”

Sam scowls at the mention of _Jedi._ George Lucas is the biggest name that has or ever will make sci-fi, and he hates to be reminded of that.

“So two people get married at the end,” Donna finishes, scanning Sam’s notes. “We’re just calling them Bride and Groom.” She checks another list. “So they should be here on set somewhere, getting ready.”

“Well, let’s page them so we can see where they are. Maybe we can finish both today.”

Clive looks doubtful. “That’s a lot of juggling of scenery and people and crew.”

“We’ll be fine.”

 

There comes a time when you admit that you’re just not needed anymore. Rose has decided that she’s reached that point with Sam Lively Productions. Her presence, and the Doctor’s, has no effect on anything. There are no threats to track down, no alien tech to analyze. In short, they’re just wasting time every day. 

The Doctor agrees with her - he’s been having far more fun than Rose, and has absorbed everything he can about the movie business, but he’s ready to wrap things up.

Rose goes looking for Sam after they decide this.

“We were thinking about taking off,” Rose says to Sam and Donna, who’s in Sam’s office. “You don’t need us here anymore, do you? We have all this stuff to take care of at Torchwood, and we just-” She stops as a page enters the room.

“No luck, Mr. Lively.”

“What do you mean, ‘no luck’? Where’ve they gone to? It’s been thirty minutes.”

“Page them again,” Donna says.

“We’re ready to go back,” Rose continues. 

“Why is that page still going?” Clive asks. He’s walked back down to Sam’s office to find out what’s happening.

“They’re not answering,” Donna tells him.

“So we’ll just be leaving, then,” Rose finishes up. 

Clive picks up Sam’s phone and engages the paging system himself. “Bride and Groom! Paging the Bride and Groom! Where are the bloody Bride and Groom?”

“Who are the Bride and Groom?” Rose asks,

Donna and Sam have the same thought at the same time. They look up at each other.

“Oh, damn,” they say in unison.

“What?” says Rose.

Donna is hurriedly flipping through a binder. “Bride and Groom, Bride and Groom, Bride and Groom,” she chants.

“I don’t believe this! How did this happen?” Sam picks up the phone.

“What’s that?” Rose asks.

“Who did we hire to play the bride and groom?” Sam is asking someone on the other end of the phone. “It was Mike and Lisa,” he says to Donna. “Didn’t we just hear something about them today?” He hangs up and strides out of the room.

“Oh, no!” Donna runs out after Sam.

“I hate ‘oh no’s,” Clive sighs, and follows.

“ _What?”_ Rose says to the empty room. “Honestly.”

Now she can’t leave until she makes sure they have enough attention on her to register what she’s saying.

By the time she finds the three of them in wardrobe they’re talking a hundred miles a minute.

“Car accident!”

“Sprained ankle?”

“What are the odds?” Sam asks Donna. “What are the odds that they both have accidents the day of shooting?”

She shakes her head helplessly.

Doris, the head of the wardrobe department, is standing next to long row of dresses.

“The costumes were fitted to the actors,” she says. “We were waiting for them this morning.”

Clive starts thinking out loud. “We can cut the scene. We can’t lose another day of shooting.”

Sam looks around. “We have Paul and Fiona, but she was killed by that giant llama in the final act and he was left to destroy the others in revenge. They were the only couple in the movie.”

“If we marry two other characters we’ll have to rewrite the script and reshoot some scenes,” Clive says. “That would take more time.”

“How did this happen? We’ve never been caught short like this!”

“We’ve never tried to keep to a shooting schedule with someone trying to kill you, either,” Clive points out.

Sam sighs. “This is true.”

Donna is thinking hard. “Can we call a casting director? Put in an emergency request? We could just throw a different man and a woman from the movie together. Maybe no one will notice.”

“They’ll notice,” Clive says. “They always notice.” He pauses and eyes Donna. “What size dress do you wear?”

“Excuse me?” she asks icily.

“If you fit into the wedding dress we could stand you up there with someone. Sam, you could stand there.” Clive looks like he thinks this is a marvelous idea.

Donna is speechless.

“Clive, don’t be stupid,” Sam says impatiently. “Lisa’s much shorter - the dress would be too short.” 

“What do I do?” Doris asks as they all leave the wardrobe room.

“I’m working on it,” Sam says.

“How are you working on it?” Donna asks politely. “Just so we all understand.”

Sam is walking outside. His assistant Derek rushes up to him.

“Are we ready? I have the stand-ins standing in, but they’re getting a bit testy.”

“They need to wait just a bit longer,” Sam says. “I have something to take care of first.”

Rose gives up and starts to walk across the lot, cutting in front of cast and crew. She can say goodbye with a phone call once she’s back at her office. Sam’s attention is caught by one of the cameras. He stares, struck, at the image, then looks at Donna.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” he says.

 

 

“No, I don’t think so,” Rose says politely. “But thank you!”

“Rose, I’m desperate. We rewrote some scenes and I don’t have the actors. I need a bride for the final scene. You look beautiful on film. And you match the measurements of the actress who was supposed to play the bride.” Sam smiles at her expectantly, like he’s fulfilling a long-held dream of hers.

“I don’t really want to be in a movie, though,” Rose points out.

“So what? You stand there and smile, and you’ll get a nice little paycheck.”

“She’s Pete Tyler’s daughter,” Donna says. “Money is not an enticement.”

“It’s the perfect ending!” Sam says enthusiastically. “Perfect. And a great thank you to Torchwood.”

“Maybe you could just thank us in the credits,” Rose says doubtfully.

“Please, Rose,” Sam says earnestly. “I haven’t got time for anything else.”

He looks so desperate. Donna also looks hopeful.

“It’s too late in the day to start over with a new actor search,” Sam says, “and all my cast have already been used.”

“Rose?” Donna asks softly. “Please?”

Rose sighs and shrugs. “Sure. What do I do?”

 

“You have gorgeous hair,” Laura from hair and makeup says admiringly. “I love the contrast with your eyebrows.”

Rose is sitting in a chair in hair and makeup, a white sheet draped around her shoulders. Laura is standing beside her, a hairbrush in one hand.

“Thanks,” Rose says.

Laura starts to brush it. “Did you wash it this morning?”

“My hair? Yeah.”

“Shame. Dirty hair is easier to style.”

It worries Rose that she has heard those exact words from the Doctor more times than she can count.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be getting my hair done today, to be honest,” Rose says.

“No, I guess not. Anyway.” Laura finishes brushing Rose’s hair, looks at it critically, and then starts plugging in various equipment. “When was the last time you had a trim?”

Rose’s hair reaches beyond her shoulder blades these days. She knows for a fact that the Doctor is very fond of it.

“I don’t need a trim,” she says hastily.

“Oh, it’s in good shape. If you wanted one I could do that now.”

“No, thanks.”

Laura talks almost non-stop as she puts Rose’s hair up in rollers. She talks to Rose, to the makeup artist, to anyone who stops in to the trailer. Rose tries to block it all out.

“I can do her face as soon as the rollers are in her hair,” the makeup artist decides. “She can step into the dress.”

“Rose, what size shoe are you?” Doris asks from the trailer’s entrance.

Rose sighs. She’s been sighing a lot today. 

 

Makeup done and hair curled and pinned up, Rose is led to wardrobe. Doris is there, fluffing out a white dress on a dressmaker’s dummy.

“There you are!” she says cheerfully. “Come on, then. Let’s make sure this fits.” She holds up a white corset that makes Rose blink. She hasn’t seen a corset since Cardiff, Wales, 1869.

“What’s that for?”

“You, of course, for under the dress. Here we are!” 

Doris dispatches with Rose’s jeans and top and hustles her into the corset. She is matter-of-fact about it all, which makes Rose feel better. She’s very thankful that Simon is no longer working in wardrobe.

Doris also hands over white stockings and a garter belt.

“Is this all necessary?” Rose feels compelled to ask. “If I’m wearing a long dress-”

“All part of the costume,” Doris says sternly. “Let’s go.”

She makes sure Rose is dressed to her satisfaction and hands her a pair of strappy white shoes with high heels. Then she helps Rose step into the dress.

The dress needs slight alterations at the waist and neck. Rose stands still as the dressmaker sews the dress while she’s wearing it, hoping that the needle doesn’t prick her skin. As Doris works Rose takes a look at it. It’s a white satin that’s snug against her skin. The low-cut neck is the reason for the corset, she realizes, eyeing the amount of cleavage on display. She tries to tug the neckline up a bit.

“Leave it,” Doris says. “It’s supposed to look like that.”

Dress done, Doris steps back to survey her. “Here. Earrings and necklace.” She fastens a pearl necklace around Rose’s neck as Rose screws matching pearls into her ears.

“Lovely,” Doris says, pleased. 

She snaps a few pictures with a digital camera and allows Rose to look in the mirror. The dress’s skirt floats down to the ground, allowing just a peek of the white shoes underneath.

“Ready?” Doris asks. “They’re waiting for you.”

Rose steps outside the trailer. Sam is already outside. “Come on! I’ll give you a ride to the set.” He hops out and helps Rose get into the cart, arranging her skirts around her.

“Here.” Sam tosses her his mobile phone. “You’re going to be in a movie! Ring up your mum.”

Rose is grateful for the suggestion and dials Jackie’s number.

“Hello, Mum?”

“Sweetheart! 

Mum, listen, is Tony still at school?”

“No, why?”

“Do you want to come and watch a movie get filmed?”

 

Sam pulls up the golf cart. Derek is waiting on the edge of the set, practically hopping with indignation.

“Sam, I could have done that! You have other things to do.”

Sam smiles genially at him. “Don’t I know it. But Rose is doing me favor, isn’t she?” He helps Rose out of the golf cart. 

“Wait!” Laura cries, running up to them. “We forgot your veil!”

“There’s a veil?” Rose asks in alarm. It’s not a pouffy thing that sits on top of her head, though, just a delicate bit of lace that hangs from the back of her head.

“Very nice,” Laura says approvingly.

Rose looks around at the throngs of people everywhere. Cameras and lights are being set up, extras are being told where to stand. Donna is standing by the edge, examining the false facade of a stone church that’s been erected on top of a small scaffold. When it’s on camera it will give the effect of being on a slight hill.

“What do I do?” Rose asks Sam.

He’s already heading to his director’s chair. “Come on. Just go up those steps, take your mark, and wait.”

“What’s my mark?” she asks, confused.

“Derek will show you. We’re just waiting for the groom.”

Derek looks annoyed at being told to show Rose to her mark, but he does it, leading her up a set of steps and onto the scaffold. Rose steps slowly, afraid that she’ll fall in all this finery, but the set is very sturdy. On the floor in front of the false church are two marks.

“Stand right here,” he tells her. “We’re just waiting on the groom and then we can start shooting.”

“Who’s the groom?” Rose asks, but he hurries away without answering.

“Prat,” she mutters to herself.

A breeze moves her veil and swings her skirts slightly. She leans from leg to leg, trying to keep entertained. A small crowd of extras, dressed as if for a wedding are now directed to stand around the facade. They’re being ordered to and fro until Sam likes how they look on camera.

Another golf cart finally pulls up, and a man in a black tuxedo hops out and starts walking to her. Rose’s smile gets wider and wider the closer he gets.

“Hello!” the Doctor greets her cheerfully. “You must be my bride.”

 

“Where’s the Doctor?” Sam asks as he watches Rose on the camera. She looks beautiful, standing there with the wind lifting her veil around. It will make a beautiful piece of film if they can get started. The lighting is at the exact perfect level.

“She’s gorgeous,” Emily, the cinematographer says. “The camera loves her.”

“I called him,” Donna says. “He didn’t sound too excited about it.”

“Call him again.”

“I don’t have to. He’ll be here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I told him he gets to wear a tux.”

“That’s all it took?” Emily asks in surprise, looking up from her movie camera. “Most men hate dressing up.”

“That’s all it took to drive him away,” Donna corrects her. “But then I told him there’d be cake.”

“Cake,” Sam muses. “Humans love cake.”

“Don’t you?” Donna asks.

“Not so much. We eat a fruit cocktail when we celebrate.”

Donna shakes her head. “Blimey, but you sound like a boring lot.”

He cocks an eyebrow at her. “I’ll show you boring,” he promises, and Donna feels her cheeks start to burn.

 

The Doctor and Rose are being directed. Sam is standing in front of them, gesturing to them and to the crowd of extras.

“Okay. You’re going to stand right here in the church doorway. We’ll have bubbles and rice coming your way. Ignore it. Stand here and smile and look happy. John, when I say ‘action’, I want you to kiss her.”

They both nod obediently.

Sam nods as well. “Good.” He returns to his chair.

“Last scene!” he calls. “Bride and Groom, stand together there in the doorway.”

Rose stands in the wedding gown, feeling very pretty and also very absurd. She had never grown up picturing her wedding day. When she’d met the Doctor, those dreams, if ever there, were buried even farther down. But here she is, hair up in an elaborate knot, filmy veil covering her head, in a long white dress.

The Doctor is wearing a tuxedo and he is almost obnoxiously handsome. His hair started out as tamely styled, but by the time he left the makeup trailer and ran his hands through it a few times, it’s back to its normal state. 

Following directions, they stand together in the doorway. Someone hands Rose a bouquet of pink roses.

“You look beautiful,” the Doctor tells her.

She smiles. “Thanks. You look very handsome.”

“So is that what all human girls wait for? A big wedding?”

“Some of us,” she allows.

“What about-” A woman thrusts an arm between them and powders Rose’s nose.

“Hey!” Rose takes a step back.

“Shine doesn’t look good on film,” she is told. “Here.”

Rose stands still obediently as the markup artist powders her face and applies more lipstick.

“Don’t lick off the lipstick,” the makeup artist tells her before hopping off the scaffold.

“Do I look like a tart?” Rose asks anxiously. She doesn’t know if this film will be a hit, but how mortifying to look overdone if it does. She’s not nineteen anymore.

“No,” he says honestly. “You’re gorgeous.” The color gives a nice pink glow to her lips and her skin. He wants to tell her the last time she looked so beautiful to him was when she held the time vortex within her, but perhaps that’s not a romantic thing to say, seeing as how he died soon after that.

“Rose! Rose!” Turning, they see Jackie and Tony standing on the edge of the set. Both are wearing security passes.

“Hi!” Jackie waves. “They brought us back here when they found out who we were! Isn’t it marvelous?”

Rose and the Doctor wave weakly.

“What are they doing here?” he asks from behind a forced smile.

“Sam thought I should call Mum and have them come watch.”

“We will never live this down,” he says.

“I know. Let’s hope for the best.”

“Smile, Rose!” Tony hollers, and he activates his recording device to take a still picture.

“Did you get that fixed so soon?” Rose calls.

“Pete replaced it! This one takes videos!” As Jackie’s been speaking, Tony’s been flashing photos of them.

“Quiet on the set! Ready for action!”

Laura swoops in on the Doctor and his hair, wielding a hairbrush, but his hair refuses to oblige.

“What do you style this with?” she asks in confusion.

“Leave it,” Sam calls. It’s windy enough that it won’t matter. “He’s fine. Positions, please.”

“What’s our position?” the Doctor asks urgently. “This was thrust upon us rather quickly.”

“Face each other! Hang on, the sun’s gone.” Everyone looks up at the sun, which has drifted behind a cloud. “Damn it,” Sam says in annoyance. “Hang on. Waiting for proper lighting.”

“Rose,” the Doctor says solemnly, “there is something I have to tell you.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“All right. What is it?”

He opens his mouth, then shuts it. He licks his lips and tries again.

“Doctor, you all right?”

“Rose, I love you.”

She smiles. “I love you, too.”

“I have, however, a confession to make. It’s rather serious, so I hope you will take it in the spirit it’s meant.”

“Okay,” she says, smiling slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’ve been maneuvering and manipulating you, Rose, for some time now.”

She doesn’t reply, and he continues. “The house, the TARDIS, living together, it’s all been a ploy.”

Rose feels like the air in her lungs is being squeezed out. “A ploy?” she manages to say. There’s a roaring in her ears - maybe she’s just not hearing him right.

“I had an ulterior motive.” 

Her vision is going dark, but she forces herself to stay standing. All her fears, all her worries, are coming true right now, while they play dress up in front of a massive group of strangers.

And yes, her mum and Tony, come to watch the filming. She can’t quite see that far at the moment, but she’d bet Tony is recording the whole thing for later viewing at home.

“All right, since you’re not talking, I’ll go ahead,” he says. “I thought that since we had a TARDIS, if I talked you into buying a house, that eventually you might, if the time was right and you felt it was appropriate, sometime in the future, possibly agree to think about the fact that you might possibly consider marrying me.”

Rose stares at him for a long moment. Stares at him so long that he starts to fidget. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah,” she says slowly. “I heard.”

“Did you...did you understand it?”

“Growing the TARDIS, looking for a house, all of that, it was just to ask me to marry you?”

“I thought I was rather clever. Was it clever?” His voice goes up in hopefulness, a tentative smile on his lips.

“All this time - all of your secretiveness and silence and moodiness - it was because of that?”

“What else would make me moody?” he wants to know.

She doesn’t dare tell him what she’s been fearing all this time. That he was getting ready to leave her, that he needed more from the life he had remaining. If he doesn’t think of it, she will not bring it up.

“I...I don’t know.”

He’s watching her anxiously. “Are you angry? Did I manipulate you?”

“No. I thought -”

“I wanted to -”

They break off at the same time.

“All you had to do was ask,” she says finally.

“Really?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So, anyway, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Rose Tyler, will you marry me?”

She never thought she’d hear those words spoken to her. Never thought she’d need an answer to them. And now she’s overjoyed to realize that she’s wanted to hear them, very much, in fact. She’s wanted to hear them for a long, long time.

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, Doctor. I will marry you.”

He grins and laughs with relief.

“Sun’s back! Action! Kiss her.”

Neither one has heard Sam’s latest direction. He pulls her into his arms, and she wraps hers around his neck, pink roses dangling limply from her fingers. He kisses her hard, with an urgency born of love and relief. His hands tangle in her hair, knocking the veil off and bringing the carefully constructed knot down. Her hair tumbles down around her shoulders, and still they keep kissing.

“Okay,” Sam says, “you can stop now.”

He repeats that several times before they come back to their senses. They break apart and smile at each other, still in each other’s arms.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you, too.”

“Bride and Groom, stand next to each other and smile. Smile!”

He holds her tight against him, looking so happy he might burst. Rose smiles happily, face flushed. The extras throw rice at them. Bubbles float through the air.

“Cut and print!” Sam calls, satisfied with this scene.

Tony flashes his recorder again. “Got it!”

The cameras are still rolling. The Doctor turns to Rose again, kissing her again, so long and hard that the camera operator lets the film roll. Sam will later include this last kiss in the film, as well.

In _Lights! Camera! Action!’_ s annual sci-fi issue, that kiss, between Bride and Groom, is rated as the number four hottest kiss in movie history.


End file.
